She Falls Apart
by LizaLizBethy
Summary: Season 5. When Brenda shows up on her parents doorstep just before Christmas, no one has any idea why she's there, or just how much their world is about to change.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The Peach Pit was bustling, filled with college students enjoying their last hurrahs before heading home for the holidays. Dylan would just as soon have avoided the place altogether, but the thought of spending another night sitting at home with a microwave dinner and a book only tempted him to return to his darker ways, and he'd figured the crowds would at least keep him sober. Besides, he had to start socializing again some time, or things would never get back to normal with the gang.

Not that they'd ever really been his friends. Brandon's friends, Brenda's friends, and then Kelly's friends, but never quite his friends. At least, that was how it felt.

Maybe that was why he hadn't been able to bring himself to sit at their table, choosing a piece of counter very close to their table instead. Close enough that he could hear every word they said, if he chose to listen.

"Kelly," Donna sounded surprised as she greeted her friend, who had just walked in the door. Brandon slapped Dylan's hand as he walked over to the group's table, and Dylan found himself grateful for even that contact. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, we figured you two would be holed up in the Walsh house as long as Jim and Cindy were away," Steve wagged his eyebrows, just in case any one had missed the suggestion in his tone. It certainly hadn't been lost on Dylan.

"Yeah well, trust Brenda to ruin the best of plans," Kelly shrugged into a seat, checking to make sure her hair and her sweater covered the burns on her neck as she did so.

"Brenda?" more surprise from Donna.

"Yeah, she showed up in the dead of night last night, swears she's back for good," Dylan gave up all pretenses of not paying attention, and turned to face their table, just in time to catch Brandon rolling his eyes. "Déjà vu."

"Predictably unpredictable, our Brenda," David turned to Claire to explain. "Brenda is…"

"Brandon's twin sister, I remember."

"Did she say why she came back?" Dylan tried to keep his voice neutral, surprised but not quite hanging on every word, heart in his throat interested. It seemed to work, although Kelly narrowed her eyes.

"Not a word," Brandon answered with a sigh. "And honestly, I'm sick of it. I don't know what's gotten into her but the dramatics are getting old."

"So you don't think it's anything serious?" Andrea asked, concerned.

"Is it ever really serious with Brenda?" Kelly sounded as exasperated as Brandon had, and Dylan bristled a little.

"Still, I'd think she wouldn't want to walk away from her acting like that," Andrea pressed, putting voice to Dylan's own concerns. "The RADA is a very good school."

"Yeah, well, Jim and Cindy are trying to get the truth out of her as we speak," Brandon shrugged. "That's why we thought it would be best to get out of there."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I don't understand how you could just drop out again!" Jim Walsh had clearly reached his limit. Of course, when it came to his daughter, it seemed like his limit was reached fairly often. "Your mother and I aren't made of money. You can't keep changing schools and throwing away deposits!"

"You and Mom didn't pay a single cent of my tuition this time," Brenda replied. "And you got a full refund of every dime you paid for me to go to Minnesota. I don't see what the problem is."

"What about our travel costs?" Jim pressed, not deterred. "Your mother and I already purchased round trip plane tickets. Those can't be refunded. What about Valerie? You want us to just throw her out?"

"Of course not," Brenda rolled her eyes. "She's in Buffalo right now, anyway, and if it's such a problem for me to be here, I'll just go live somewhere else. I've been on my own for months now anyway."

"Oh well that's all settled then," Jim snapped, throwing his hands up in the air, then adding sarcastically "you've clearly proven how responsible you are."

"Brenda, we just want to understand why you came home," Cindy interrupted, touching her husband's arm in an attempt to calm him down. "It seems… sudden. We thought you were happy in London."

"I was," Brenda turned away from them, going to look out the living room window so they wouldn't see the expression on her face. "I was happier than I've been in a really long time," she turned back to her parents. "Which is why you have to believe that I had good reasons to leave."

"Well what are they?" Cindy's voice remained calm, concerned, motherly, and Brenda wanted nothing more than to reach out for her mom and burst into tears and confess everything.

"I can't tell you right now," she sighed. "I will, but not yet. Not now. You just have to trust me."

"Because you've done so much to earn our trust in the last year," Jim clearly wasn't buying it. That was his problem.

"Look, I don't mean to get in your way, I'll go stay somewhere else if you want," Brenda sighed. "And you and Dad can still go to London if you had your hearts set on spending Christmas there."

"Don't be silly," Cindy reached out and hugged her daughter. "We had our hearts set on spending Christmas with you. And Brenda, when you're ready to talk, we'll be here, ready to listen."

"Thanks, Mom."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hey, Dylan," Brandon slid onto the stool next to his friends, while the rest of their group gossiped about his sister's sudden reappearance – again. "Got a minute?"

"Depends," Dylan shrugged. "What do you need?"

"It's about my sister," Brandon answered, looking at the counter. "I was wondering where things stand between you two."

"Where things stand?" Dylan raised an eyebrow. "You know where things stand. I'm here and she was there. Things aren't standing at all."

"I know something happened this summer, man."

"Do you?" Dylan waived Nat down. "Another coffee, Nat," he muttered, before turning to face Brandon fully. "And what do you know happened this summer?"

"I don't know what," Brandon replied, anger that he couldn't quite hide seeping into his voice. "That's why I'm asking."

"And why is that? You think I'm the reason she came back?" Dylan stared down at his empty coffee cup. "'Cause let me tell you, your sister made it clear she puts her acting career far, far ahead of me."

"Yeah, well something brought her back," Brandon sighed. "And I think you probably stand the best chance of finding out the truth."

"You wanna know what happened this summer, Brandon?" Dylan sighed and met his eyes. "What happened is that I let her down. Again. Okay? I told her she could trust me this time, and then I broke that trust. So I don't think Brenda will even talk to me any time soon, let alone confide in me, so find someone else to air her dirty laundry, okay?"

Brandon shrugged, giving up and went back to the table, sliding into the booth to sit next to Kelly. He wrapped his arm around his girlfriend, without taking an eye off of the man who'd once been his best friend. Dylan was again staring at his coffee cup – now filled, thanks to Nat – and seemed not to notice anything around him.

Brandon had been so worried about Dylan's history with Kelly, he hadn't really thought about his history with Brenda. Dylan had seemed okay with Brenda being gone – as okay as he'd been with anything that fall. Now, Brandon wasn't so sure that was the case.

"What was that about?" Kelly asked quietly, nodding her head in Dylan's direction.

Brandon dropped a kiss on her forehead before answering "I'm not sure myself."

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was weird to think of Valerie sleeping there, in her bed, a bed she'd once shared with Dylan – although only on rare occasions when they had the house to themselves. It was weirder to think of Valerie sharing a bed with Dylan, although Brenda knew she had. Actually, it was beyond weird. It caused a sharp, piercing sensation in her heart that Brenda was only too familiar with.

Except this time it was worse, because she knew Valerie. She knew that Valerie hadn't just happened to get involved with Dylan, they way Brenda could almost believe Kelly had. Valerie had been the person she'd confided in last time, the person who'd received tear stained letters and long distance, hour long phone calls, analyzing every minute of conversation Brenda had ever witnessed between Dylan and Kelly.

If Valerie and Dylan had really been together – and Brenda believed they had, Donna had no reason to lie to her – then Valerie had gone into it with her eyes open, intending to sleep with the man Brenda loved.

Brenda wasn't sure there was any way to repair that friendship now.

And Dylan… well, Brenda wasn't back in Beverly Hills to date anyway. And she doubted Dylan would be interested when he found out the truth, even if she could have brought herself to forgive him. Again.

Dropping her suitcases on the floor, Brenda collapsed onto the bed, face down in a pillow, and let herself cry.


	2. Part One

A/N: First of all, thanks for the kind reviews; I wasn't expecting this to be so well received so quickly :D. Second of all, to be perfectly honest, I don't really have this story planned out. I have things I know I want to happen, and I have things I'd like to fit in if I find a way, but nothing concrete or nailed down. So basically, what I'm saying is… it is what it is. This chapter is one I'm not particularly happy with, but I don't know how else to get to the next chapter, so… here it is.

_**Part One**_

Morning came too soon for Brenda Walsh, still suffering the aftereffects of jet lag. It had taken her far too long to get to sleep last night, although she was still wearing the jeans and tee shirt from the night before when she woke. Groggily, she remembered that she'd never washed her make up off, and looked to the mirror with a grimace. She looked awful.

Better get used to that, she thought with a sigh. You won't be in the running for any magazine covers in the near future.

Magazine covers led her to thinking about Kelly's Seventeen cover shoot, which led her to thinking about the whole gang, and Brenda felt a knot settle in her stomach. She was not looking forward to being reunited with her friends, if she could call them that any more. Outside of her family, no one but Dylan had kept in touch consistently when she was away, and she could count their feeble attempts on one hand. David had sent three post cards over the summer, Steve had sent two, Andrea had sent two letters and called once, and Donna had been the most consistent, with five phone calls between June and December. Kelly hadn't called or written at all, although occasionally, if she was at the Walsh house and Brenda happened to be on the phone, she'd say hello.

It seemed out of sight out of mind was a very true statement with this group.

With a great deal of effort, Brenda pulled herself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. She could have just gone back to sleep, but she felt a sudden and dire need to take a shower and wash off all the makeup and airport grime.

"Geez, Bren, can't you knock?" Brandon snapped, and Brenda winced, realizing she'd walked in on her brother urinating.

"Sorry, got used to having my own bathroom," she shrugged, turning away. "I didn't see anything, I promise."

"Yeah, well let's try and keep it that way," Brenda heard a flush and a zipper before she allowed herself to turn around and face her brother again. The annoyance that had colored Brandon's face melted away to concern when he looked at her. "You're not looking so good, Brenda."

"Thanks Brandon," she rolled her eyes. "And here I thought I was one of those supermodels who could pull an all-nighter and just walk right onto a runway. I didn't get around to changing last night, okay?"

"Whatever you say Bren," the annoyance was back, as Brandon finished washing his hands and stalked out of the bathroom. "It's all yours."

Brenda found herself sighing for the millionth time as she started to undress. She couldn't seem to say anything without upsetting Brandon or their parents, like her mere existence was almost intolerable.

"Boy does it feel good to be home," she muttered as she turned on the shower and stepped under the hot water.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Jim, would you please try to be understanding about this?"

Brandon paused in the hallway. He'd been about to head downstairs for breakfast when he overheard his parents' argument, and he just hadn't been able to walk away. He was as curious as anyone else as to why Brenda had suddenly quit the RADA and packed her bags.

"I'm trying to be understanding, Cindy, but we still don't know what this is!" Jim's voice echoed through the hallway. "She won't talk to us!"

"I highly doubt Brenda would leave London for no reason," Cindy answered back. "You know how much she loved that school."

"It's not like this is the first time she's done this."

"She was miserable in Minnesota, Jim," his mother sounded more agitated than his father at this point, which was rare. "Something is really wrong this time. And you know it."

"I don't know what to believe," his father's response seemed to end the argument, and Brandon thought it would probably be best to get out of the hallway before they headed down to breakfast themselves.

Brenda certainly hadn't seemed like herself since she got home. The first night, she'd shown up around eleven thirty, just as Brandon was getting ready to take Kelly home. Val had already left, and their parents had just gone to bed, believing they had an early flight tomorrow. By the time Brandon got back from the beach apartment, Brenda was already in bed, and even though he'd known she wasn't asleep, she'd pretended, refusing to acknowledge his questions or respond to his presence in her room.

The next day, she'd stayed in bed most of the day, waking up just before dinner - which had been awkward and tense, arguing with their parents, and going back to bed before Brandon got back from the Peach Pit. Even jet lagged, it wasn't like Brenda to spend that much time sleeping, or rather, lying alone in her bedroom pretending to be sleeping. And then this morning, she'd looked like death warmed over, only partly because of her makeup running all over her face.

The fact was, she'd lost weight, and she was paler than he'd ever seen her. Her eyes were bloodshot and tired, and her posture was terrible.

She'd barely looked like Brenda.

Brandon was starting to agree with his mother. It wasn't like Brenda to drop her acting career on a whim, after fighting so hard to get to the RADA in the first place, and it certainly wasn't like Brenda not to care about her makeup, or to sleep in her clothes.

Something was wrong with Brenda Walsh.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Donna, my friend," Steve sauntered into the beach apartment. "How are you this fine holiday season?"

"Mmm, grateful for the break," Donna closed the door behind him and followed him into the living room, sliding onto the sofa next to Claire and David. "Kelly, Steve's here," she called down the hall. "What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"Well I was thinking," Steve smiled – beamed, to be more accurate – at them, as Kelly walked out of her bedroom, still wearing her pajamas and a bathrobe. "The judge's orders only ban me from throwing professional parties. There's nothing against a holiday party for my friends."

"Steve," Donna cast a nervous glance in Kelly's direction. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure people are feeling much like celebrating," Kelly said as she leaned against the back of an armchair.

"Aw come on," Steve pressed. "Brenda's back, Dylan's sober, Donna's turning the big two-oh, everyone's happy healthy and wealthy… well, except Dylan, of course… what's not to celebrate?"

"I don't know that Brenda being back is something to celebrate," Kelly cautioned. "The Walshes didn't seem especially happy to see her."

"And she seemed really happy every time I talked to her," Donna added. "I think something must have happened."

"All the more reason to make her feel welcome," Claire piped in. "I mean, I didn't know her that well, but it is Christmas."

"And where would we have this little shindig?" David asked. "The Peach Pit After Dark isn't ready for business yet."

"So we'll have it here. Or at the Walsh house. Heck we can have it at Dylan's place if all else fails, just as long as we have it," Steve's expression could only be described as triumphant. "We need some happy times around here. Everyone's been too gloomy for too long around here."

"I guess we could have it here," Donna looked to Kelly and Claire, not wanting to make the decision alone. She was especially worried about how Kelly would feel. The last party Kelly had attended had ended with third degree burns, after all. "I mean, for Brenda."

"I'm fine with that," Claire agreed, and Kelly sighed.

"As long as it's small. Just us, okay?"

Steve nodded, letting out a bark of enthusiastic laughter that brought smiles to all of their faces. "You won't regret it!"

~*~*~*~*~*~

After dodging her parents questions over breakfast that morning, Brenda watched as one by one her family members all left the house; Brandon headed off to pick up Kelly, or maybe just to visit Kelly, or something or other, her father went to work, and her mother went out to run errands. No one had offered to bring Brenda with them, and Brenda hadn't particularly wanted to go. Instead, she grabbed her mug of tea – she'd switched from coffee over the summer and hadn't switched back yet – and wandered into the back yard, sitting on a lawn chair and pulling her knees to her chest. Her head was pounding but she didn't want to resort to the pain killers in her purse just yet, although she had carried it out into the yard, just in case.

Sitting there alone, Brenda's mind wandered, passing over her memories in London and wondering when, exactly, everything had gone so wrong.

"_You need to shape up_," Roy Randolph's voice echoed in her head._ "You're missing rehearsals; your head isn't in it when you are there. This isn't the University of California's spring play, Brenda. You can't half ass this and get another shot. One more misstep and you will not be asked back next semester. Your career with the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, and with the theatre world as a whole, is in serious jeopardy." _

"_I'm sorry," _Brenda had pleaded, to no avail._ "I don't know what's going on. This isn't…" _

"_I am well aware that this is not your usual behavior. I vouched for you, remember? I recommended you to the program. And quite frankly, my reputation is on the line right now. I can't afford to plead your case any more than I already have." _

With that, Roy Randolph had given up on her, and although she'd scraped by, managing to pass through to the next semester with almost-decent marks, she had lost her scholarship, and it had taken everything she had just to make herself attend rehearsals every day.

It wasn't that she hadn't been trying; but she'd been beyond exhausted all semester. At first she thought it was just jetlag. It hadn't really affected her when she first landed in England, maybe it was catching up with her.

Or maybe it was the blowout with Dylan that had affected her. It wouldn't be the first time he'd thrown her off her game. All of senior year she'd been in a funk, and her grades had suffered then too. And, from everything she managed to glean of the news from home, he wasn't doing well either. Drinking and drugs and women and comas. It wasn't exactly a happy story.

Or maybe, if it wasn't Dylan, it was the rest of her friends. It hurt to feel so very separated from them – not just by the literal distance, but by the emotional distance that had come to characterize her interactions between them. It got to the point that she was in tears every time she talked to someone, or got a post card or a letter.

The first headache, she'd chalked up to stress. She wasn't performing as well as she normally did, and she knew it. The first time she fainted, she'd chalked it up to exhaustion and stress, and more stress about how stressed she was. After Roy Randolph's angry phone call, she had resigned herself to visiting a doctor to make sure it really was just stress.

Then, she hadn't been able to deny the truth any more.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"You're awful quiet," Kelly slipped her arms around Brandon's neck, leaning up for a quick peck on the lips. Brandon had been at the apartment a good twenty minutes, and had barely said anything aside from 'hello' since he got there, letting the others party plan while he sat to the side, watching them.

"Yeah, Brandon, what do you think?" Donna looked expectantly at him, and Brandon sighed.

"I'm sure it'll be great," he answered. "I'm just not sure Brenda's in a partying mood."

"It's the holidays," Steve exclaimed for the tenth time that morning. "Everyone should be in a partying mood for the holidays!"

"Tell Brenda that."

"She's still in a funk?" Kelly asked, trying to sound sympathetic as she rubbed his arm gently. The truth was, Kelly had very mixed feelings about Brenda's sudden return. Although they had ended on slightly better terms, they still weren't exactly friends, or at least, they weren't nearly as close as they'd once been. When Brenda had left, Kelly had figured it was better that way. Things were so stinted and awkward between them, the distance might help things.

Now… now high school seemed like a lifetime ago. Last semester seemed like a lifetime ago. And the sweet, caring Brandon who'd tried so hard to comfort her over her burns, who'd wanted so badly to protect her and to convince her that she was still beautiful, the Brandon she needed so desperately, was focused on his sister's problems and Kelly seemed to take a backburner. Not that it shouldn't be that way; it just hurt to feel him pull away right when she needed him.

"It's more than a funk," Brandon's shoulders sagged, and his whole body seemed to shrink into itself. "She isn't talking to any of us. She's been in her room pretty much since the minute she got back. She comes out to eat and that's pretty much it. I don't know… I don't know how to talk to her, and I can't figure out what's wrong."

"Well, maybe someone else should try," David suggested.

"I bet she'd talk to Dylan," Steve chimed in. The room fell silent when he said his name, and Kelly could feel everyone's eyes on her, so she squeezed Brandon's arm a little tighter, hoping it was reassuring him.

"They were pretty close last year," she said carefully, but Brandon shook his head.

"I tried to get him to talk to her, but he doesn't think she'd want to hear from him," he answered. He sounded like he'd given up, which worried Kelly. "Something happened this summer, but I'm not sure what exactly…"

"They got back together," Donna said quietly. "In May, before she left."

"What?" Kelly's head snapped over towards her friend, who had her hands in her lap and was watching her own movements very intently.

"Look, I didn't say anything okay?" Donna looked at them all, biting her lip as she did. "I promised Brenda I wouldn't, but if she's really having problems…"

"She is," Brandon's tone of voice told Kelly that her 'problems' seemed to be much more serious even than what he'd let on earlier.

"Well, okay, but still, don't tell her I told you, please."

"We promise," Kelly swore.

"Okay, well, after Kelly left for Washington, Brenda and Dylan kind of sort of got back together. Brenda was really nervous about it, because she was going to be away for the summer, you know? Because of what happened when she went to Paris…"

Kelly's face felt hot as once again she felt her friends' eyes on her.

"And I guess things went really well, 'cause Brenda seemed really happy most of the summer, but then he cancelled a visit at the last minute, I guess probably because he lost all of his money…"

~*~*~*~*~*~

"_I don't know what happened," Brenda's voice sounded on the verge of tears as it filtered across the phone line. _

_Donna had just run into Kelly at the salon, and was shocked to find out Brenda wasn't coming home for school. She'd called Brenda right away; they hadn't talked in a few weeks, but Donna was more than a little hurt that Brenda hadn't told her sooner that she was staying in England. Not to mention the fact that Donna couldn't imagine Brenda not coming home to Dylan now that they were a couple again._

"_He stopped returning my calls. He didn't come to visit me when he said he would," Brenda continued. "I couldn't get a hold of him, so I called Iris, and she said she thought he was with me…Finally, I called the place he usually stays in Mexico, and when I tracked him down, he sounded really strange. He told me not to make any decisions around him and I heard a girl in the background…"_

"_Oh Brenda."_

"_I didn't want this, Donna," the tears were definitely flowing now, Donna knew without being able to see her friend's face. Brenda's voice was thick with emotion. "I didn't want to get back together right away, because I knew this would happen. I was just… I don't know. I was saying goodbye, and then he kept promising that this time would be different and that I could trust him, and I believed him. God, I'm such an idiot."_

"_You are not an idiot."_

"_I AM," Brenda insisted. "And I'm worse of an idiot this time, because we were talking every day for months, not like Paris, when we hardly spoke. And I didn't even know… I couldn't tell that there was someone else."_

"_Brenda I'm sure that you misunderstood," Donna tried to sound reassuring. "Like in Palm Springs when you thought he was with that girl who was in his hotel room…"_

"_And I have absolutely no proof that he hadn't had sex with her," the tears started to subside, and Brenda's voice had sharpened slightly. "In fact, I have absolutely no proof that he was ever faithful to me for even a minute."_

"_Brenda, he worshipped the ground you walked on all through high school."_

"_Not all through high school," Brenda corrected, and a sniffle came across the line. "Anyway, I finally realized that I cannot plan my future around Dylan McKay, so when they offered me the spot… I'd be crazy not to take it, Donna. A degree from the RADA can make an actor's career. It's basically the difference between being an actress and being a waitress who auditions for parts in her spare time. And you know I hated waitressing…"_

"_And you're not just staying there to avoid Dylan?"_

"_Definitely not. He's not a part of my plan at all," she sounded like herself again and Donna wanted to believe her, although months later, when Donna told her about the drinking and the drugs and the coma and Valerie, she'd started to cry all over again._

~*~*~*~*~*~

"In other words, Dylan is probably not the best option," Kelly concluded after hearing Donna's story, inwardly relieved that she and Dylan had never had what he and Brenda had. The whole time they'd been together, Kelly had been jealous of how close he was to Brenda, how much they would always love one another. Of course, Kelly wasn't jealous of how much he hurt Brenda, or how much she hurt him. Kelly and Dylan had been miserable together, but she could honestly say he'd never quite broken her heart.

"What about you, Kel?" Donna asked, looking cautiously at her.

"I don't know," Kelly answered, looking nervously around the room. "We haven't really been close in a long time. Maybe you could…"

"Actually I think that's a good idea," Brandon interrupted, staring intensely down at his girlfriend. "It could give you guys a chance to get close again."

"I don't know," Kelly repeated, still looking at each of their friends. Claire and David were having a separate conversation, looking at each other like the lovers they were. Steve was following Brandon, Donna and Kelly's conversation, but didn't really seem interested.

"It couldn't hurt, right?" Donna looked so hopeful, and Brandon so worried, the Kelly found herself shrugging.

"I guess not," she heard herself saying before she really realized she was agreeing. "I'll try."

~*~*~*~*~*~

**Next Time** on She Falls Apart : Secrets start to come out, and Christmas is celebrated…


	3. Part Two

A/N: I've only seen seasons 5 – 10 in fragments and pieces, so I'm not as familiar with the later characters as with the original 8. If my Val, Ray, Claire, etc. is weak, please just let me know! Also, this story sort of picked up at the beginning of "Christmas Comes This Time Each Year" and then spun off into their own little reality, or fiction-ality, so some of the stuff from that episode will be mentioned in passing, but it may be out of chronological order and some stuff may be completely left out because either I forgot about it or I didn't like it to begin with.

A/N 2: From here on out, this story will deal with some medical issues that I am only minimally familiar with. I have done a little research, but you should not read this story as medically accurate. Because it's probably not.

A/N 3: Edited to change Celeste Martin to Felice Martin... thanks for catching that Nikkycoly! I'm also a big Veronica Mars fan, and I guess I confused my rich bitch mothers :D

**Part Two**

Valerie Malone let out a little sigh as she took a sip of her Pina Colada.

"Perfect, right?" Ginger, Val's best friend from Buffalo, was smiling at her from the next lounge chair. Ginger was a real wild child; she actually made Valerie look tame in comparison. In fact, Ginger was probably the reason Val was, well, the way she was. Back when Brenda had been Val's best friend, they'd broken rules, sure, but they'd never quite been troublemakers, exactly.

_I'm sure that's not how Jim remembers it_, Val thought to herself, with a smirk. _If Jim Walsh only knew just how easy he and Cindy had had it._

But thinking of Brenda led to thinking about things Valerie did not want to think about. She hadn't escaped the cold Buffalo winters for the warm, sunny beach just to be caught up in the same memories that would have made Buffalo unbearable. So Val turned to Ginger with on of her trademark devilish smirks – the smirk Ginger had taught her.

"Better than Buffalo," Val conceded eventually. Then, seeing a handsome, shirtless man walking towards them, she added "and looking up."

"Hi," the man said, smiling down at them. "I'm Stuart Carson. Who might you two lovely ladies be?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was the worst Christmas Eve Brandon could remember, when only days ago it had looked like this might be the best Christmas yet. Then he'd been looking forward to a quiet Christmas alone with Kelly. Now, his parents, sister, friends and all of his friends' parents and siblings were going to be crowding the house, and he'd be lucky to get a minute alone with Kelly, let alone a whole day. Not that he particularly wanted to spend time alone with Kelly now, not when she seemed so put out by Brenda's presence in California, which would only make sense if Kelly still felt something for Dylan.

It had been bad enough watching the Kelly-Brenda-Dylan Bermuda Triangle (as Dylan had once so aptly put it) from the sidelines. Brandon refused to be sucked into it.

What was it about Dylan that made the females in this town go so crazy anyway? He was sullen, sulky, withdrawn and secretive, not exactly the qualities Brandon would have thought a girl like Kelly would have found attractive. Val and Brenda's interest in him, Brandon could understand. Val would just want to have fun, no strings, no commitments, and Dylan's untouchable attitude would be perfect for that. And Brenda would be drawn to Dylan's sadness and to the drama of a relationship with someone like him. She'd want to make him forget his pain and just be happy for awhile – and she had done exactly that, when they'd been together. With Brenda, Dylan had smiled and laughed and been a part of the gang. He'd even gone to a costume party.

But Kelly's interest in Dylan had never made any sense to Brandon. Kelly had a difficult enough life without adding Dylan's problems to the mix. She'd never seemed drawn to other people's sadness. Girls like Kelly Taylor dated guys like Steve Sanders, guys like Brandon Walsh. Guys who would do anything in their power to make her happy, guys who would worship the ground she walked on. Dylan would never be that guy.

So why did Kelly always seem so possessive over him?

And, as if all of his doubts and worries weren't enough to ruin Christmas, Brenda still wasn't explaining why she'd come back, or what she intended to do with herself now that she had returned, and the tension in the Walsh house was deeply uncomfortable. Every conversation seemed to dance around the subject of Brenda's return, and every word seemed to upset someone in the room even more.

"Earth to Brandon."

"What?" Brandon blinked and saw his sister waving a hand in front of his face. "Sorry, Bren, were you saying something?"

"What time is everyone getting here?"

It would have been the perfect opportunity for her to make fun of him – to say something about him spacing out, at least – but Brenda went straight to the point, which bothered Brandon for some reason he couldn't quite figure out.

"Mom said dinner would be at four," Brandon answered, glancing at the clock. It was three thirty. "So I guess people will start getting here any time now."

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I'll get it," Brenda called as the doorbell rang for what seemed like the thousandth time. It was ten minutes to four and they were still waiting on only a few of their guests. Andrea, Jesse and Hannah had arrived first – "we can't stay long," Andrea had announced apologetically, "we promised we'd celebrate with Jesse's family tonight." They were followed closely by Steve and Samantha Sanders – Rush was spending the holidays with "the flying monkey children" – then David and his new girlfriend Claire, then Kelly, Jackie, Mel and Erin. That left only Donna and the Martins, should they deign to attend a gathering that wasn't strictly high society.

Actually, Brenda was pretty sure her mother said something about having invited Dylan, but he seemed less likely to attend than Felice Martin.

As predicted, Brenda heard a high pitched squeal when she opened the door.

"BRENDA!" Donna cried, pulling her into a tight hug. "Brandon said you were back! Oh I'm so happy to see you!"

"Merry Christmas," Brenda smiled weakly, pulling away as soon as she could do so without overtly hurting Donna's feelings. "And Happy Birthday, I guess."

"Thanks," Donna stepped into the foyer, a smile still glued to her face. "You have to tell me everything about London. We haven't talked in ages!"

Biting back a sarcastic comment about whose fault that might be, Brenda forced another weak smile and promised they would gossip later, adding the requisite comment about wanting to know everything about Donna's new boyfriend, too.

"The adults are in the dining room," Brenda gestured towards the room where her parents, Jackie and Mel were gathered. "And I think Hannah and Erin are with them. Everyone else is in the living room. I'm going to go check on something in the kitchen."

"Ooh, well I'll come with you, and we can talk," Donna offered but Brenda shook her head quickly. Donna obviously hadn't picked up on the fact that 'checking on something in the kitchen' was an excuse to get away from everyone for a few minutes.

"That's okay, really," Brenda pointed towards the living room. "Go, enjoy the party. I promise we'll talk later."

"Okay, I guess," Donna shrugged. "Can you make my parents' excuses while you're passing your parents?"

Brenda promised she would and the old friends went their separate ways, Donna joining the party and Brenda sneaking through the kitchen and out the back door onto the lawn chair that had become her favorite resting place.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dylan was sitting on his sofa, debating whether or not to drag himself to the Walsh Christmas party, when a knock sounded at his door. Dylan sighed and got up to open the door.

"Look, I'm not a big fan of Christmas carols…" he started as he turned the knob, stopping suddenly when he saw who was on the other side. "Iris."

"I couldn't let my only son spend Christmas alone, could I?" Catching Dylan's look, she held up a hand. "Don't answer that."

Dylan smirked and stepped aside so she could come in. Iris cast a critical glance around the living room.

"Not that you can tell it's Christmas from this gloomy old place," she shook her head. "Well, get dressed. We've got plans."

Dylan looked down at himself and quirked an eyebrow at his mother. "I am dressed."

"You are not going to the Walsh's party looking like a vagabond," Iris scolded. "I raised you better than that," seeing his look again, she held up another hand. "Alright, I didn't, but it's never too late to start. Go change."

Smiling to himself a little, Dylan went into his bedroom to change.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"This is not what I had in mind when I said we should party," Steve shook his head to make his disappointment clear. "This is just sitting around in nicer clothes."

"And with presents," Donna chimed in cheerfully, but unfortunately, even Donna's cheeriness wasn't enough to light the gloom that had settled over the group. "C'mon guys, it's Christmas."

"Sorry Donna," Brandon shook his head. "Just not in the spirit, I guess."

Kelly and Andrea both made muffled sounds of agreement.

"Well then get in the spirit," Steve commanded, looking to Donna for help.

"If I can still celebrate, even though my Mom offered to buy Ray off, then you guys should be able to celebrate too," Donna nodded firmly. "Besides, if you ruin Christmas, you don't only ruin Christmas, you ruin my birthday too. You wouldn't want to do that to me, would you?"

"What do you mean your Mom tried to buy Ray off?" Andrea asked quietly, and Donna heaved a heavy sigh.

"I mean she tried to pay him to break up with me," Donna rolled her eyes. "Typical Felice Martin. Money can solve everything, right? Well Ray might be poor but at least he respects himself too much to let a few thousand dollars make him walk away from me. Look, I really don't want to talk about my Mom, okay?"

"Where is Ray?" Claire asked from her perch on the arm of David's chair.

"I figured it probably was best to come alone, you know?" Donna shrugged. "I didn't want to overwhelm Brenda with new people. Of course, that was when I thought she might actually be in the room."

"Where is Brenda?" Steve asked, concerned. "I've barely seen her all night."

"Probably out back," Brandon sighed, standing. "I'll go talk to her."

"No," Kelly stood up and placed a hand on Brandon's arm. "Let me try."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Brenda?"

The back yard seemed perfectly empty, but Kelly wasn't sure where else Brenda could have gone. _Maybe she's in her bedroom? _

"Brenda, are you back here?" Suddenly, Kelly saw a head of dark brown hair peaking over the top of one of the Walshes' lawn chairs. As she made her way over to the chair, she saw her friend lying apparently unconscious. Kelly broke into a run. "Oh my God! Brenda!"

Dropping to her knees beside the chair, Kelly frantically felt for a pulse, and was about to scream for help when Brenda turned her head to face her.

"I'm okay," Brenda forced out, although Kelly could barely hear her. "Water please."

"Don't you think you should go to the hospital?" Kelly didn't let go of Brenda's wrist, using her free hand to feel the brunette's forehead in a futile attempt to test her temperature. Kelly wasn't a doctor or even a med student like Andrea, but Brenda was clearly not healthy.

"No point," Brenda coughed on her words. "Water. And my purse."

"Be right back."

Kelly began to hurry back into the house when Brenda called her name. "Please don't tell my parents, Kel. I'll explain, just… don't tell them yet."

Back in the Walsh kitchen, Kelly poured a glass of water and looked around for Brenda's purse, cursing inwardly when she didn't see it. She'd have to ask Mrs. Walsh.

Kelly went into the dining room and pulled Cindy aside. "Brenda wanted me to get her purse," she began, and seeing Cindy's curious look, she quickly added "to show me some pictures from London…"

"That sounds fun," Cindy smiled. "Why don't you two join the group and we can all look at them?"

"Well, see," Kelly hedged desperately. "The thing is, Mrs. Walsh, Brenda and I haven't been very close in a long time," she said, using an old trick Kelly had learned from lying to her own mother – tell at least part of the truth so that its less obvious that you're lying. "I was kind of hoping this could be our chance to bond again, especially since I'm dating Brandon now. Is that okay?"

It was the perfect excuse, because it ensured that no one would interrupt them. It was a well known fact that Brenda and Kelly had a lot to work through.

"I understand completely," Cindy's smile widened. "I put Brenda's purse on her bed this afternoon while I was tidying up. It should still be there."

"Thanks."

Kelly moved so quickly it was less than a minute later that she was back outside, racing back to Brenda's side.

"Here," she thrust the glass of water at Brenda as her friend reached for the purse. After rooting around for a second, Brenda pulled out a pill bottle, and poured a few into her hand. "Brenda, what's going on?"

Brenda threw the pills back and took a sip of water. "Look, Kel, can this be just between us?"

"As long as you tell me what's going on," Kelly promised. Brenda sighed.

"Really between us. You can't even tell Brandon."

"Cross my heart," Kelly swore, hoping she could keep that promise. "What's going on?"

"A few months ago, I started getting these really bad headaches," Brenda began, hesitating over every word. "When I finally went to the doctor, it took them almost a month to figure out what was going on."

"And?"

"And I have cancer."

A gasp escaped Kelly's throat before she could contain it. Whatever she'd been expecting Brenda to say, that was decidedly not it. Hadn't they been through this before, Sophomore year? Only, Brenda's lump hadn't been cancer at all then.

"It's pretty bad," Brenda continued, sounding to Kelly as if she couldn't stop herself from talking now that she'd started. "The doctor in England thought it probably started in my breast – because of the family history. They haven't done any biopsies yet or anything, so they can't be sure. But now it's in my brain and my blood stream too, and I guess it has been for awhile. Maybe even all of last year. The uh, the doctor thought that might explain some of my impulsive behavior."

"So what now?"

"Well my parents insurance doesn't really cover international care, so I couldn't afford to stay in England any more," Brenda shrugged. "I have an appointment with my regular doctor next week, and I'll probably go into surgery to do the biopsies fairly quickly after that." There was a pause, and then Brenda added "I haven't told my parents any of this…"

"Hey," Kelly touched her arm gently, immediately picking up on the warning and the worry in Brenda's last sentence. "I promised you I'd keep it a secret, didn't I?"

"Yeah," Brenda nodded slowly. "Thanks."

"I just can't believe you've been going through this alone," Kelly said, finding herself once again in awe of Brenda's strength, just as she had been last June, when Brenda had left for a whole new continent where she knew no one, and bringing no one with her. Just as she had been the first time Brenda had found the tumor in her breast, or when she was held up at the Peach Pit, or when she stood up to her father about Dylan. The truth was, Brenda had always been the strongest person Kelly knew. "I think I'd be a wreck."

"I have been," Brenda ran a hand through her hair and looked away down the driveway. "And I'm going to tell them. I just don't want to ruin the holidays, you know?"

"Oh Brenda."

As Kelly pulled Brenda into a hug, both women realized that there had been very little physical contact between them in a very long time, and both women deeply regretted that fact.

~*~*~*~*~*~


	4. Part Three

A/N: This is flowing at a very slow pace, simply because that's where the writing is taking me, but if it's too slow, please, just let me know. Also I think this chapter is a little shorter than the previous ones, but that's because I wanted the next chapter to stand on its own, and I didn't want to stretch the party out.

**Part Three**

Whatever Kelly said to Brenda, it certainly seemed to have worked. Not only had Brenda rejoined the group, but she was smiling and telling stories about her friends in London, and Brandon even heard her have a friendly exchange with their father.

"It's decided," Brandon whispered as he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend's waist and dropped a kiss to her neck. "You are a miracle worker."

"I don't know about that," Kelly answered quietly, sounding distracted. She was watching Brenda from across the room, as Brenda chatted with Claire. Brandon followed her gaze.

"Well you got her in the holiday spirit, and that's more than I can say for anyone else here," Brandon said. Kelly turned in his arms and met his eyes.

"You really shouldn't be so hard on her," she reprimanded him. "You and your father are always so hard on her. You always have been."

"Kelly…"

"Sorry," Kelly shook her head, cutting him off before he began. "I didn't mean… it's just, she's going through something…"

"She's always going through something."

"God, what happened to you guys?" Kelly's voice was a little louder now, and Brandon saw Steve glance curiously, though Brenda, thankfully, didn't seem to have heard. "You used to be so close, and now… what exactly is so bad about her being home, Brandon?"

"Nothing," Brandon shrugged. Why did it seem like Kelly was suddenly on Brenda's side against him? And since when were he and Brenda on different sides anyway? "Kelly, what's going on? What did she tell you?"

"Nothing. Forget I said anything," Kelly stepped out of his arms and leaned against the wall. "I just used to think you guys were best friends. Now it seems like you don't even want her around."

"You guys aren't exactly best friends any more either," Brandon couldn't help retorting, even though he wanted nothing more than to get out of this fight and go back to three minutes ago when his arms were around Kelly and his sister was smiling and the undeclared war that seemed to be raging in the Walsh house was on hold for the holidays.

"Well as far as I know you didn't sleep with Dylan."

Kelly and Brandon exchanged heated glares for a few seconds, before Kelly's words sunk in, and they both started to chuckle. "I'm sorry Brandon," Kelly sighed when they quieted. "I just care about you both, and it hurts to see things so weird around here."

Brandon pulled her back into his arms and kissed her softly.

"So what did Brenda tell you, anyway?" he asked when they pulled apart. Kelly shifted her weight a little, before they were interrupted.

"Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds," Andrea's words were teasing, and Brandon was relieved to see a smile on her lips. In spite of Andrea's marriage, he still worried about how she'd react to his relationship with Kelly. Given the way she'd responded sophomore year, when Kelly had worked on his campaign and when he'd taken Kelly to the spring formal, and given the way he and Andrea had danced around the idea of dating pretty much all through high school, he worried about flaunting what he and Kelly now had.

"No interruption," Kelly smiled at Andrea, twisting in Brandon's arm to face their friend, who was holding Hannah, Jesse at their side. "You guys leaving?"

"We have to meet my family for dinner before midnight mass," Jesse nodded. Andrea handed Hannah to her father before stepping forward and pulling Brandon and Kelly each into a hug.

"Merry Christmas, you guys," she kissed them each on the cheek and pointed to the nearest archway. "There's mistletoe over there if you need an excuse."

"Ha ha," Kelly smiled. "Enjoy mass."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Going out with Stuart, again?" Ginger was looking positively sour, although her words were teasing. Valerie couldn't help but feel a little pleased that for once it was Val who was having a fling and Ginger who was stuck in the hotel room on Christmas Eve.

"Yeah," she answered, brushing her hair in the mirror and watching Ginger out of the corner of her eye. "There's a cocktail party at his hotel. I'll, uh, probably just stay over tonight."

"Oooh," Ginger sat up on the bed and raised both eyebrows. "Staying over. That's new."

"Ginger we had sex last night."

_And it was good too,_ Val thought. She was moving faster with Stuart than she usually did – faster than she had with Dylan even – but it wasn't exactly her fault. He was sweeping her off her feet. _Suddenly I understand what Brenda was thinking when she almost married… damn, what was that guy's name?_

"Yeah," Ginger was saying as she climbed off of the bed and walked over to Val, throwing an arm over her shoulder. "But sleeping over there means waking up over there. And he hasn't seen you wake up yet, covered in mascara from the night before and looking like a train wreck. That's a big step, girlfriend."

"Oh shut up," Val hip checked Ginger lightly. "I'll wash my face before I fall asleep."

But a knot of tension had settled in Val's stomach.

What if Stuart didn't like waking up with her?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As Iris pulled her rental car to a stop outside the Walsh house, Dylan suddenly remembered his biggest reason to avoid this particular Christmas party.

He'd bet every dime he had left – which wasn't all that much, after the scam and the alcohol and drugs he'd purchased since the scam went down – that Brenda Walsh would not be happy to see him.

In fact, she'd probably throw whatever drink the Walshes were serving their underage guests right in his face. And he'd deserve it.

"Iris," he turned to his mother before she could open the door. "Mom. Look this probably isn't a good idea."

"You'll have to face them someday."

"It's not that, it's just that Brenda's back, and…" Dylan trailed off, knowing at once that he'd said the thing most likely to make his mother force him to go into the house.

"Cindy mentioned it when she called me," Iris proved her son right by smiling slyly. "I'm sure she'll be happy to see you."

"And I'm not," Dylan spoke firmly, hoping against hope his tone would make Iris understand how badly he'd screwed things up this time around, but she didn't seem to catch on.

"Well, you'll have to see her sometime, too."

With that, Iris got out of the car, and Dylan had no choice but to follow her.

"This is gonna be bad," he muttered.

Iris rang the bell.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I guess Andrea must have forgotten something," Jim said as he went to open the door for the eighth time. Everyone else was in the dining room, where Cindy had set up a buffet style feast fit for a king. "Iris."

"I hope we aren't intruding," Brenda heard Dylan's mother's voice before she saw the woman, but the word 'we' caused Brenda to cast a panicked look around the table. Donna was staring at her from the other side of the table, where she was picking at the ham slices. Beside Brenda, Kelly was staring at the door.

Iris stepped through the doorway, removing her coat. Dylan followed right behind her, and his eyes immediately found Brenda, or maybe the found Kelly and Brenda just happened to be next to Kelly. The whole thing made Brenda's head hurt – though thankfully it was the too-familiar Dylan-Kelly-Brenda headache, and not the increasingly familiar cancer headache.

"Uh, of course not," Cindy moved over to the door, casting a nervous glance in her daughter's direction. "You were invited. Come in. We were just about to eat."

"Oh good, I'm starved. Plane food is truly terrible," Iris spoke like she was confessing some great secret, although everyone in the room could hear her, and the disgust that was plane food was generally understood.

Then Iris caught Brenda's stare.

"Brenda!" she cried, and Brenda reluctantly set her plate down and went to meet her ex-boyfriend's sometimes-estranged mother. "My goodness it's been awhile."

"It has," Brenda agreed, leaning in for a quick hug.

"Too long," Iris pulled back. "I kept expecting to see you at the hospital when Dylan was… well, that's over and done with, isn't it?"

Brenda just stood, focusing too closely on Iris in a vain attempt not to notice Dylan out of the corner of her eye. "I was away," she explained, although her explanation fell flat. Time was, Brenda would have given up everything the minute Dylan needed her.

_Thing is, he didn't need me this time,_ she thought._ Or at least, he didn't want me.  
_

"Well, aren't you just as beautiful as ever," Iris smiled, looking Brenda over. "You simply have to be a movie star someday. No one is that beautiful for nothing."

"Thank you."

"Let's eat, shall we?" Jim herded them all into the dining room and Brenda fell back into place beside Kelly, avoiding looking at Dylan any more than was absolutely necessary._  
_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Long after their parents had left and Mr. and Mrs. Walsh had headed up to bed with see-no-evil-hear-no-parties expressions on their faces, most of the young people were still in the living room, one empty bottle of champagne and one half full bottle on the floor in front of them. After rousing games of never-have-I-ever and truth-or-dare, they had pretty much coupled off. Kelly and Brandon were cuddling on an armchair, watching the fire; though, if you asked Brenda, Kelly's expression wasn't admiring so much as fearful. David and Claire were sharing the couch with Steve and Donna, laughing about something or other, Brenda on the floor in front of them, regaling them with stories of London and the friends she'd made and classes she'd taken. And her boyfriend, Jacob.

Dylan was alone on an armchair, engaging in what was fast becoming an old habit of his – listening in on his friends' conversations, seeing as no one was actually talking to him.

"So, are you guys doing the whole long distance thing or what?" Donna's voice slurred slightly, belying how much champagne she'd drunk. Brenda's answering laugh sounded exactly as Dylan remembered.

"God no," he heard her answer, sounding like the only other sober person in the room, which she probably was. Dylan didn't remember ever seeing Brenda drunk. In fact, he didn't remember her having more than one drink on any given night. "Like I have such positive experience in that arena, anyway?"

"Oh, duh," Donna giggled, and put a hand on Claire's arm. "She means 'cause of Dylan."

Donna's drunken announcement was loud enough for the whole room to hear, and the room hung suspended in awkward silence. Brenda was avoiding Dylan's eyes with even more vigor than she had been earlier, and her cheeks had turned just the slightest shade of pink.

Kelly broke the silence, saying something quietly to Brandon, and after a few seconds, Dylan heard Brenda speak again.

"It's not like Jake and I were really serious anyway," she said, returning to her previous topic of conversation. "We'd only known each other a few months, and then suddenly everything was different and serious… It just got too weird."

"Better to be single anyway," Steve crowed, raising his glass to toast with Brenda. She smiled at the leering once-over he gave her. "Besides, if we ever get lonely, we always have each other."

"In your dreams, Steve."

"Besides, what would you know about being in a relationship anyway?" Donna teased him. "The last person you were with for more than a month was Kelly."

"Wait a minute," Claire held up a hand. "Kelly, as in… Kelly?"

"It was a long time ago," Steve scowled at Donna. "And I was with Celeste for more than a month, thank you."

"Yeah, and you cheated on her," Donna retorted.

"Yeah, well…" Steve looked down at his drink. "Shut up."

"Let me get this straight," Claire continued, looking at David as she spoke. "Kelly used to date Steve and Dylan, and now she's with Brandon," Kelly blushed bright red as she spoke. "And Brenda used to date Dylan, and Val used to do something with Dylan, and you" Claire poked David in the chest "used to date Donna… and you're all still friends?"

"Oh," Donna giggled. "Yeah I guess that is a little weird."

"You know what?" Brenda stood up, looking at the floor as she spoke. "I think I'm going to go to bed. Happy Birthday Donna Goodnight everyone. Merry Christmas."

"What?" Claire asked as Brenda left the room. Donna shook her head, holding a finger to her lips.

"It's probably a bad thing to talk about Dylan and Valerie in front of her."

At that, Dylan stood up and left the room. Knowing he should probably just get leave the Walsh house, Dylan stood in the entrance hall for a split second before turning and heading up the stairs to follow Brenda.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	5. Part Four

A/N: This part will be shorter than the previous parts, but I wasn't sure how to handle it, as I wanted Part Three to end where it did, but I also wanted this conversation to be the last piece from that night – we jump to a day or two after Christmas in the next part. So I decided to just give Brenda and Dylan their own little segment here, rather than try to make the Christmas party stretch over three chapters.

That said… one of my reviewers asked if Brenda is my favorite character from 90210, and I would probably have to say she is… or at least, I like the idea of who she could have grown into as the series progressed. Unfortunately for Brenda fans, that doesn't mean that I'm going to get her and Dylan back together, make the cancer a false alarm and end all things happily within a few chapters. I tend to put my favorite character through a hell of a lot before I let them have a happily ever after, if I let them have a happily ever after.

I pushed Brenda and Kelly quickly back into being friends because I think the show beat the Brenda-and-Kelly-are-jealous-of-each-other-because-of-what-happened-with-Dylan story line to the point where they verged on beating a dead horse. It also seemed realistic to me that if Brenda really needed someone to lean on, and had no one else, and if Kelly really knew how much help Brenda needed, much like when the situation was reversed with the diet pills, I think they would gravitate towards one another again. I certainly can't see Kelly maintaining her jealousy of Brenda in that situation.

While the show certainly seemed to suggest that Dylan would drop anything for Brenda if she were in trouble, and that he'd be the first person she'd turn to, I have a little too much respect for Brenda to believe that even after she found out Dylan was sleeping with another one of her best friends and even after she found out he'd relapsed into alcoholism and now drug addiction, he'd be the first person she'd turn to. Especially given that he's made his feelings about Kelly's relationship with Brandon all too clear. I think that if Brenda were to forgive Dylan and fall right back into his arms, the relationship would go up and down on the same seesaw it did in high school, and while the writers of the TV show may have found that interesting… it just doesn't seem like a healthy relationship to me.

I guess I just wanted to share my thoughts on why things are progressing so slowly here, and now that I've ranted for awhile, back to the story.

**Part Four**

The sounds of her friends filing out of the house reached Brenda's ears but didn't register any sort of reaction. The bedroom she'd fled to, the room she'd sought out as an oasis away from the memory Claire's words… _"__**Kelly **__used to date Steve and __**Dylan**__… And __**Brenda**__ used to date __**Dylan**__, and __**Val **__used to do something with __**Dylan**__,"_ … the bedroom wasn't hers any more.

Her pictures didn't line the mirror; Val's did. Her stuffed animals didn't cover the bed. Mr. Pony was nowhere to be found, although there was the stuffed Mrs. Pony that Brenda had bought for Val after Val fell out of the tree in the Walshes' front yard and broke her ankle. They'd been eleven, then, and Val was already moving on from stuffed animals. She'd even mocked Brenda for being so "kiddish" as to think she'd want one. Still, Mrs. Pony had survived the move to Buffalo, and the move to Los Angeles, so it must have meant something to Valerie at some time.

Brenda picked the pony up off the vanity and threw it hard across the room, watching as the stuffed animal flew out the window. She hadn't realized that it was open, but she wasn't sorry.

_I hope the damn thing landed in the dirt,_ she thought angrily._ I hope it rains too. Let Val find Mrs. Pony in the yard, covered in mud, when she gets home from wherever she is, because I can guarantee you she is not in Buffalo._

A knock sounded at her door, and Brenda knew without asking that it was Dylan, coming to try to explain the whole thing to her, or to apologize, or to yell at her for not reading his letters, or all of the above.

"Bren?"

She wasn't wrong.

"Go away."

"No."

"Trust me, you don't want to wake my father up," Brenda purposely raised her voice, hoping to do just that. If her father caught Dylan at her bedroom door, Jim Walsh was likely to chase him out of the house and down the block with one of the spare little league bats he kept in the closet. The image made her giggle for a minute, but the laughter evaporated when she saw the doorknob begin to turn. She hadn't locked the door.

"I. Do. Not. Want. To. Talk. To. You," she hissed as Dylan stepped into the room. "I don't know how much clearer I can make that."

"I know you don't want to talk to me," he sighed, leaning against the door. "And I don't blame you for that. But I need you to listen to me."

"I don't want to listen to you either."

"Brenda…" Dylan sighed again, running a hand through his hair. Fortunately, he was keeping his distance. Still, Brenda wished she hadn't thrown Val's stuffed animal out the window, if only so that she could throw it at him instead. "I think you at least owe me five minutes."

"Excuse me?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Brenda's voice dropped, venom dripping from her every word, and Dylan knew he'd said exactly the wrong thing.

"I owe you?"

Experience told him that when Brenda yelled and made a scene, it meant that they would eventually get past whatever the fight was about. Even _"I hate you both. Never talk to me again"_ had really meant _"I'm hurt and angry and I need some time."_

This soft, low voice was dangerous. There was anger in her words that was sharper and more intense than he'd ever heard it before.

"I owe you?" she repeated. "I owe you. Dylan, I don't owe you a damn thing."

"Brenda, I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes, you did."

If looks could kill, Dylan was pretty sure he'd be greeting the devil ten seconds after meeting her eye.

"Bren…"

"Because somehow, for the last five years, I always come off as the bad guy here," she continued. "In Palm Springs, when I found another girl in your room, a room you rented specifically to have sex…"

"With you."

"I was the bad guy for thinking you were cheating on me," Brenda ignored him. "Even though you never actually denied it. When I got scared about our relationship, you told me to get over it. When I tried to be your friend instead of your girlfriend, you wouldn't have it. When I snuck around to see you, you wanted me to come clean. When I came clean and needed a place to stay because of it, you did everything you could to get me out of your house. When I went to Paris because you asked me to, you started seeing my best friend behind my back…"

"You cheated too!"

"I saw Rick twice, and he wasn't your best friend! I would never date your best friend, even if we had broken up, which we hadn't!"

"That's because my best friend is your brother," Dylan joked, attempting to lighten the mood, but his words only seemed to intensify Brenda's anger.

"No, that's because I would never do that to you. I could never hurt you like that."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You're hurting me now."

His words hung between them and Brenda turned away, walking over to the window, effectively putting as much space between them as possible in the small room. Her eyes searched a minute for Mrs. Pony, but it was too dark to see the ground, let alone to see a small stuffed animal that may have landed out of sight anyway.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," she sighed. "I'm just not letting you hurt me."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"That's what you said last May," Brenda let a hand slip up to her eye and wipe away a phantom tear. She wasn't actually crying, she just felt like she should be. "And yet, by August you were already cheating on me. Again."

"I wasn't," Dylan took a few steps toward her – Brenda could see from the reflection in the window – but she didn't turn around. "I swear that Brenda. I know I hurt you, but there weren't other women until…"

"Until when, Dylan? After I read the letter or after you mailed it, or maybe after you finished writing it? After you decided to write it?"

"Until Brandon told me that you weren't coming home," she felt a whisper beside her cheek, saw the reflection of his hand reaching to touch her and then falling to his side. "Until I knew I'd chased you away."

"That's not what happened."

She was growing sick of explaining that her decision to stay in London had nothing to do with Dylan McKay. She'd already read what was essentially a Dear Jane letter by then. She'd already known they were over. The RADA was probably the best theatre school in the world, and the summer program had rid her of all doubts that theatre was what she wanted to do with her life.

"I made a choice for me," she told Dylan. "For once in all the years we've known each other, I made a decision that had nothing to do with you or my parents or my brother or my friends. I wasn't running away from you, Dylan."

"It felt like it."

"Maybe it wouldn't have if you'd returned my calls. If you'd let me explain."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I'm sorry."

He finally allowed himself to touch her, letting a hand rest on her shoulder.

"I know the words aren't enough, and I know that you have every reason to be angry, but I am so, so sorry."

She didn't shrug him away, but she didn't turn around or encourage him, either.

"I hate myself for hurting you," he continued softly. "If you'd read my letters, you'd understand that. And I want to do anything I can to make things better between us. You're still the first person I think to talk to whenever something goes wrong or right in my life. You were all I could talk about in rehab… all I could think about…"

"You say that now," Brenda stepped away, turning to face him, but it was a trade off, as Dylan's arm fell to his side once more. "But Dylan, I have no reason to trust that. I have no reason to trust you."

"The letters…"

"Are just words. Even if I'd read them."

"Brenda…"

"The truth is, until I came back, you were pining over Kelly and angry at Brandon for being with her, and if I leave again tomorrow, you'll go right back to that," Brenda shook her head.

"That's not true."

"I think it is," Brenda bit her lip. "And I wish I could say that I can't be your girlfriend again but I can be your friend. The truth is, I don't think I can be either."

"Brenda…"

"I'm sorry, Dylan. But I think you should go."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After Dylan left, Brenda sank into the window seat, feeling a few real tears fall from her eyes. She wiped them away quickly, mentally counting the seconds it would take for Brandon to open the bathroom door and check on her.

Fifteen and a half, if she'd been counting her Mississippis correctly.

"I couldn't help overhearing some of that," Brandon said quietly, leaning against the doorjamb. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," Brenda nodded. "I'll be fine."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	6. Part Five

A/N: The author's note on the last chapter was supposed to explain why I had Brenda and Dylan fighting instead of falling into each others arms, but it seems to have scared some people, so let me reassure you… This is a Brenda/Dylan story. He isn't going to give up without a fight.

And now… Brenda tells the Walshes. And they tell pretty much everyone else.

**Part Five**

"I'm telling them."

"When?"

"Brunch. Can you come? Please?"

"Give me fifteen minutes."

Kelly had been planning to go on a run; after having dinner at the Walsh house three nights in a row, for two of Mrs. Walsh's famed Christmas dinners and one leftover feast, Kelly was positively bloated. Still, Brenda was more important right now, so as Kelly threw down the phone she shrugged out of the sweats she'd intended to wear jogging and grabbed the nearest pair of jeans. For the first time since the fire, she didn't even think about whether or not she was hiding the burns effectively.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The food was ready, and the Walshes were seated around the kitchen table, Kelly between Brandon and Brenda, as everyone began to dig into their food. But Brenda couldn't even think about eating. She hadn't planned to tell them right away, but her nerves wouldn't let her wait any longer either.

Dropping her fork, she stood up and cleared her throat, immediately getting her whole family's attention. Kelly sent a sympathetic look her way, and Brenda was grateful for her friend's presence.

"Mom, Dad, Brandon," Brenda began slowly, enunciating each name carefully. They were all staring at her expectantly. "I know you've all been wondering why I came back…"

"Brenda is this the time?" Jim unsubtly tilted his head towards Kelly.

"I asked her to be here," Brenda told him, before continuing. "As I was saying. I know you've wondered, and I'm grateful that you haven't pushed," _much_, she added mentally, "and I guess I'm ready to tell you."

But as soon as the words left her mouth, Brenda's throat closed up. How could she tell them the truth? _This will destroy them, _Brenda thought, feeling her muscles tense up. But that wasn't the only problem. Years ago, when Cindy's sister Sheila had been sick, life at the Walsh house had been a living Hell, so bad it was actually made better when Shiela died. Brenda didn't want to go through that again. Ever.

_They'll figure it out, no matter what you do, _Brenda's inner voice reminded her, and the expression on Kelly's face told her the same thing. Taking a deep breath, she just spat it out.

"I have cancer."

Her father's face seemed frozen, and her brother was looking between Brenda and Kelly, clearly clued in that Kelly had found out the truth before he had, but it was her mother's gasp of pained shock that captured Brenda's attention.

"I went to the doctor in England because I was having these headaches, and they found a cerebral lesion," Brenda forced herself to continue. It would be better to get it all out at once than to tell the story in bits and pieces. "They ran a whole bunch of other tests, and found another tumor on my breast. Both the tumor and the lesion are so small that the doctor said either one of them could have come first, but because of the family history, they think it's probably metastatic breast cancer."

Cindy was crying now, and Brenda knew exactly why.

Metastatic breast cancer was what Sheila had.

"Brenda…" her father's voice shook and stopped. She'd never seen her father so incapable of speech. A part of her wished he could blame this on her, or demand to know why she hadn't been more careful, or do something that would seem normal to her.

"I don't know what to say," Brandon choked out, but then he turned to Kelly and narrowed his eyes. "You knew about this?"

"Only since Christmas Eve," Kelly answered honestly.

"How could you not tell me?" he demanded, and Kelly seemed to shrink a little. Brenda knew it had been difficult for Kelly to keep the news from Brandon, and it wasn't fair for him to turn on her now.

"Because I asked her not to," Brenda cut in. "I didn't want… I wanted you to hear it from me. I'm sorry if that hurts you but I thought it was best."

"Why did you wait so long to tell us?" it was her mother's turn to demand information, and Brenda turned to face the most devastated member of her family.

_I always said Mom loved me more than Dad did,_ Brenda quipped mentally. Even she didn't find herself particularly humerous.

"I wanted Christmas to be good," Brenda answered honestly. "I didn't want everyone to be sad on Christmas."

_I was a coward._

"What now?" Jim's voice was filled with the quiet, we-will-beat-this determination it had been filled with the first time she'd found a lump, and Brenda felt a surge of affection for her father.

"I have an appointment with Dr. Dana…"

"She's the one who treated you last time?" Jim cut in and Brenda nodded.

"I have an appointment with her tomorrow at three and then she'll probably want to do surgery as soon as possible," Brenda answered. "They didn't want to do a brain biopsy in England until they knew what they were dealing with, but she probably will want to."

"They'll… they'll cut into your brain?" Cindy's voice was shaking and she wasn't even trying to hold back her tears. Brenda just nodded.

"I'm going to talk to Dr. Martin about finding the best surgeons in Los Angeles," Kelly spoke up, touching Brenda's hand lightly. "I was only waiting for you to tell your parents, so that Donna wouldn't find out…"

"Thanks," Brenda smiled at Kelly, and then she grimaced. She didn't want to have this conversation all over again with each of their friends; she didn't even want to have this conversation once more with all of her friends at once.

"And I'll take off work tomorrow," Jim nodded to himself. "Brandon and your mother don't have classes so we'll all be there with you."

"I'd like that," Brenda nodded.

"I need to call my mother," Cindy rose abruptly from the table, but instead of taking the kitchen phone, she slipped upstairs. Brenda knew she was going to the phone in her bedroom. She also knew she wouldn't dial right away. Jim stood too, and Brenda figured he was going to follow Cindy, but instead he came to Brenda's side, folding her into a big bear hug, the kind that used to make her feel like the safest, luckiest girl in the whole state of Minnesota.

"I'm sorry Brenda," he whispered, his arms still around her. "I know I haven't always been very supportive, but I want to make up for that."

"Thanks," Brenda said as he pulled away, kissing her forehead.

"We'll get through this, kiddo."

With that, he left, following her mother out of the room and up the stairs, and leaving Brenda alone with her brother and his girlfriend.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jim disappeared from view as Brandon stared down at the food that had gone uneaten. Next to him, Kelly was standing to clear the table, and he vaguely heard her mention something about Tupperware, but the truth was, he was having trouble focusing on anything other than his sister's voice, repeating in his head.

_I have cancer. Cerebral lesion. I have cancer. Metastatic breast cancer. I have cancer._

Without realizing what he was doing, he found himself enveloping Brenda in a warm hug, and saying "tell me everything."

Unfortunately, the more Brenda told him, the more Brandon felt like the worst brother in the world. The doctor had sited weight loss, unusual behavior, headaches, and fatigue as symptoms, Brenda said. Brandon had noticed that she was losing weight last year. He'd noticed it again when she'd arrived back in California. He'd noticed her erratic behavior last year – how could he not have? He'd even noticed her napping and reaching for the aspirin bottle a little more often than usual.

How could he not have known?

How could he have been angry at her for coming home?

How could he have been relieved when she went away?

"Brandon, I didn't know until a few weeks ago," Brenda seemed to read his mind. "There's no way you could have known."

"I just…" Brandon choked on his words.

"I haven't been the best brother," he concluded. Seeing her about to interrupt, he shook his head. "No, Bren, it's true. Even putting aside the C word, I should have known that you were going through something last year. And instead of being there for you, I got obsessed with shaking the president's hand."

"And stealing my ex-boyfriend's on-again-off-again-girlfriend," Brenda quipped. "I know that had to involve a lot of careful planning."

"Hey, I had to get him back for letting the on-again-off-again-girlfriend steal him from you," Brandon quipped back.

"Ahh, so it was all part of your plan," Brenda nodded wisely. "What are you gonna do with her now?"

"I am standing right here," Kelly came out from behind the island, abandoning the Tupperware containers and the dirty dishes and putting her hands on her hips defiantly.

Brandon smiled, wrapping an arm around Kelly and pulling her towards him quickly. Kelly let out a squeal. "I think I'll keep her."

"Don't do me any favors," Kelly rolled her eyes playfully before standing on her toes to kiss him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Brandon saw Brenda smile at them as she leaned against the island.

"You guys are cute."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Cancer."

Donna felt like a parrot, but she didn't know what else to say. Ever since Christmas, she'd felt like the third wheel on the Brenda-Kelly bicycle, a feeling she hadn't had since senior year, when Dylan came between them. She'd actually been jealous that they were keeping secrets and whispering in corners together.

But if this was what Brenda and Kelly had been keeping from her, from everyone, Donna wasn't sorry she'd been out of the loop.

"That's bad right?"

"David!" Claire whacked her boyfriend in the stomach, and Donna felt like hitting him herself. Actually, felt an irrational urge to scream that he didn't live here anymore, and would he kindly take his girlfriend and go? He wasn't exactly Brenda's friend anyway.

"Well, we don't really know," Kelly answered, shrugging her shoulders. "It certainly isn't good, but until she meets with the doctor tomorrow, we won't know for sure what's going on."

"What time?"

"Donna, you promised my Mom we'd spend the day with her tomorrow," Ray reminded her. Donna shrugged out of his arms and stepped away from him.

"I'm sure LuAnn will understand."

"And I'm not," Ray pressed. It was Donna's least favorite of his traits; Ray could be excessively demanding sometimes.

"Ray, my best friend may be dying! Your mother can wait!"

"We don't know that she's dying," Claire spoke quietly, looking at Kelly for confirmation. "Lots of women are diagnosed with breast cancer every day, and a lot of them survive. Maybe even most of them."

"She's not in good shape," Kelly sighed, looking at her hands. "But she hasn't been handed a death sentence either."

"See?" Ray continued to press Donna. "She said she'll be fine."

"That's not what I said," Kelly's eyes shot daggers at Ray. "If Donna wants to be there for her friend, she should be."

"Fine."

Ray stalked out of the apartment, and Donna wasn't entirely sorry to see him go.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Cancer."

The word left a dirty taste in Steve's mouth.

_Brenda has cancer._

The last time this had come up, Steve had barely known Brenda, hadn't seen her as anything more than Brandon's sister. And even though he'd told her last year that he wasn't her friend, in reality, she had become a good friend. Brenda could always be counted on to make the dance floor more lively at any party; to go along with hair brained schemes to deface the Hollywood sign; to tell him when his girlfriend was a grave digging good-for-nothing. She changed the whole group dynamic. Until the end of the night, the Walsh Christmas party was the first time in a long time that things had felt right with the eight of them.

Now everything was going wrong.

"Are you sure, Brandon?" Andrea sounded as doubtful as he felt, although Steve recognized it as the old editor in chief in her, wanting to make sure she had all her facts straight. "I mean, it couldn't be something else?"

"She seemed pretty certain," Brandon shook his head. "She has her second opinion tomorrow though."

"Do you think she'd mind if we came?" Andrea asked. "For moral support?"

"I think she'd like that. It's at two o'clock."

"I'll need to see if Jesse's Mom can watch Hannah, but I'd like to be there."

"I'll drive you," Steve volunteered.

"Kelly thought you might have some contacts in the medical world," Brandon was clearly speaking to Andrea now, and Steve was actually a little jealous. He wanted to be able to help Brenda. He wanted to be able to call someone and have strings pulled; that was usually his role, after all.

"Donna's father would probably be better," Andrea shrugged. "I can feel around though."

"Thanks."

"Brandon, can I ask you something?" Andrea asked after a few moments silence. Steve didn't hear Brandon's response, but he must have nodded, because Andrea soon continued. "Why are you telling us this? I mean, not that I don't want to know, but you asked specifically if you and Steve could come over and talk to me about something…"

Steve turned to look curiously at Brandon. He'd been wondering the same thing himself.

"Brenda told our parents this morning, and she told Kelly a few days ago. She didn't want to have to go through it a third time, so Kelly and I volunteered," Brandon answered, shrugging. "Kelly's telling Donna and David, because they're all at the apartment, so I'm telling you two."

"So Dylan doesn't know," Andrea looked contemplative, but a cry from the next room interrupted their conversation. Looking at the clock, she sighed. "It's time for Hannah's bottle."

With that Andrea disappeared from the living room, leaving Brandon and Steve alone. Neither man spoke.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Andrea knocked three times on the door, but when it didn't open, she decided to try the back of the house. Sure enough, Dylan was out there working on the motorcycle. She had no idea why a single motorcycle would require the constant uptake that Dylan devoted to his, but she'd always figured it was a guy thing. She set Hannah's travel basket on the ground as far from the bike as she could manage and coughed.

"Andrea," Dylan's head snapped up. "I didn't see you there."

"I knocked, but…"

"Yeah, Iris is doing a little retail therapy," Dylan shrugged with a small smile. It was sweet to see how much he enjoyed having his mother around. "I tried to teach her to surf this morning. It didn't go well."

"I can imagine."

"Can I get you a drink?" Dylan offered. "I have water, and soda, and maybe some milk, or something."

"That's okay, I can't stay long."

"What brings you by?" Dylan looked at the basket on the ground. "Is that Hannah?"

"Her? No, she's just a baby I found on the street."

The look Dylan gives her causes Andrea to let out a bark of laughter.

"Joke," she explained, looking at her feet. She knew it probably wasn't her place to talk to Dylan like this, but she couldn't help it. She was a sucker for happy endings, and she wanted Brenda to have one. Brenda was, after all, the real reason she'd become a part of their circle of friends. Brandon had been perfectly happy to leave Andrea on the sidelines and play with the popular kids. Brenda had befriended her, had invited her to sleepovers and group outings, and even tried to help set Andrea and Brandon up sophomore year.

Looking at Hannah, most days, Andrea was glad that Brandon hadn't given in to his sisters machinations, but some days, she still wondered what might have happened if Brenda and Andrea had pushed a little harder. She even had dreams sometimes that Brenda trussed her up like Sandy in the last few scenes of Grease.

It wasn't about Brandon, anymore really, of course. She loved Jesse, and she loved Hannah, and she wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. But Andrea still longed to be someone she still didn't think she was; someone beautiful and popular and wanted. She'd started to feel that way, with Dan and then in the early days with Jesse.

Now she just felt like a mom.

"Can I?" Dylan was gesturing to Hannah, and looking at Andrea with an expression she'd never seen on his face before. She smiled and nodded her permission. As he lifted Hannah out of the basket and into his arms, Andrea marveled at how much her daughter had grown since her hospital days. "She's beautiful."

"She is," Andrea nodded. "And I did want you to meet her, but that's not really why I came."

"Why did you?" Dylan looked away from Hannah's face for a second, but he was quickly distracted again by the baby's happy gurgle. Andrea suddenly thought better about telling Dylan about Brenda while he was holding Hannah.

"Maybe I should…" Andrea gestured, and Dylan reluctantly relinquished Hannah.

"Don't trust me, huh?" Dylan sighed. "Seems to be contagious these days."

"It's not that," Andrea insisted. "Maybe you should sit down."

"Why?"

"Because what I have to tell you is about Brenda."

The look on Dylan's face actually hurt Andrea, a mixture of guilt, worry, love, anger, and an overwhelming amount of pain.

"She's sick Dylan. That's why she came back."

Dylan leaned back against his bike for support, but he must have leaned too hard because the bike toppled out from under him. Andrea mentally congratulated herself on taking Hannah from him before she told him.

"What?" Dylan gasped as he righted himself and the bike.

"The doctor in England said it was metastatic breast cancer, but she's getting a second opinion tomorrow," Andrea paused. "I don't know that I should be telling you this, but I thought… Dylan, I don't know what happened between you two this summer, but she did tell me before she left that you were giving things another try…"

"It didn't work."

"I did pick up on that," Andrea teased, but neither Dylan nor Andrea found it amusing. "Dylan, when I was in the hospital last spring, when Brenda told me you were getting back together, she told me all she wanted was for you to be there for her. To fight for her, the way you did when everyone was talking about her and Roy Randolph. Do that now."

"She asked me to leave her alone."

"Don't."

With that, Andrea placed Hannah back in her baby basket and left.


	7. Part Six

A/N On Val's History: It doesn't come up much this chapter, but it will, so I thought I'd clarify a little, seeing as the show gave her three separate family backgrounds… I'm leaning towards the earlier explanation of Valerie – suicidal father, maternal towards her younger siblings, etc. – although I may include some of the abuse later on.

**Part Six**

When Dr. Dana walked into the crowded waiting room, it wasn't hard to spot Brenda Walsh. She was seated between her parents, holding both of their hands with white knuckles. A young man the doctor remembered as her brother sat in a seat caddy corner to Mr. Walsh, his arms around a young blond woman. More young people were scattered around them, leaning against the walls and seated in nearby chairs.

Brenda stood up when she saw the doctor, and with a glance back at her family and friends, she followed Dr. Dana to an exam room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One week.

It had been one week since Valerie had met Stuart Carson. Seven measly little days since they'd first spoken, seven days since they'd kissed, seven days since she'd let herself get more attached than she should ever allow herself to get.

Seven days since she'd thought of Dylan long enough to feel guilty or jealous or hurt.

And only four days until she had to leave her personal paradise behind.

"So Valerie Malone from Buffalo," Stuart spoke directly in her ear, his arms slipping around her waist as they stared at the ocean together. "Tell me about yourself."

"We've been sleeping together for what?" Val pretended to count on her fingers," five nights in a row, now? And you were never curious before?"

Stuart kissed her bare shoulder, and she could feel his lips curve into a smile.

"Well," he answered slowly. "I was curious. But we were a little too busy for conversation."

"Hmm," Val felt like purring when he kissed the pulse point on her neck. The beautiful ocean view went in and out of focus and she tilted her head to give him better access. "We could get busy again."

When he laughed, Val tried to memorize the sound. Four days from now he'd be out of her life once more.

"I'd rather hear about you."

"What's to know?" Val shrugged. "I already told you. I'm from Buffalo. Two younger siblings. College student."

"Okay, let's start with where you go to college," Stuart suggested. "Or your parents. Or why you aren't in Buffalo this Christmas."

_Or none of the above._

She pulled away from him and wrapped her arms around her own waist.

"Why can't we just have fun, like we were?"

"Because I want to know more about you," Stuart pressed, his hands against her shoulders and stooped down to meet her eyes. "I want to know everything about you."

"Look," Val stepped away again. "January second, I'm going to get on a plane back to California and we'll never see each other again, so…"

"California?"

Stuart looked like he'd won the lottery or saved a stray puppy or something.

"Yeah. It's where I go to school. California University."

"Then it'll be very easy for us to see each other again," Stuart closed the distance between them yet again. "I live in L.A."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was two thirty when Dylan walked into the waiting room. He sought out Andrea first, and when their eyes met she gave him a warm smile and a subtle thumbs up, inclining her head just slightly towards the flowers in his hands. White orchids. They'd cost a fortune but Iris was happy to help pay for them when Dylan explained the situation.

"I hope it's okay that I came," Dylan said quietly to Mr. and Mrs. Walsh. "Andrea told me last night that everyone would be here."

"It's fine," Jim answered, not warmly, but at least he hadn't asked Dylan to leave. Not that Dylan would have left if he had.

"Here," Andrea patted the seat next to her, and Dylan sank into it, watching Mrs. Walsh as he did so. Her eyes hadn't left the floor since he'd walked in.

When he finally gave up on receiving any recognition from Mrs. Walsh, Dylan looked around the room. It didn't seem any different from any other hospital waiting room – just rows of almost comfortable chairs clustered in small, u-shaped groups. Jim and Cindy occupied one rung of their particular cluster, with an empty seat between them that Dylan assumed to be Brenda's. Brandon, Kelly and Donna occupied the next rung, while he and Andrea finished out the group. Steve wasn't seated, but leaned against the wall at the end of Dylan and Andrea's row.

"She just went in," Andrea told him. Dylan nodded; he'd timed himself to arrive late on purpose. He hadn't wanted to be there when she went in, and he hadn't wanted her to send him away before he heard what the doctor had to say. "No word yet."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"David."

Claire pulled the door open and blinked in surprise. "I thought you'd be at the hospital with everyone else."

"Well, ah, Brenda isn't really my friend," David said, stepping past her into the apartment. He stood in the hallway, shifting on the balls of the feet. "She was, once, but we haven't talked in months."

"And yet you seem upset."

Claire took his hand and led him to the sofa. They sat together, not letting go of each other's hands.

"Yeah, I guess I am upset."

"I'm sorry."

The truth was that Claire had no idea what to say. She'd never really known Brenda and David had never talked about her. The other night at the Christmas party they hadn't seemed particularly close, but it had seemed like everyone was avoiding a thousand subjects at once that night. Even when they were laughing and enjoying the evening, it seemed like an awful lot was being left unsaid.

"You didn't know her very well," David shrugged. He turned away for a minute, and when he turned back, he was holding a picture frame. "This was taken at this pool party last year. I think it was a Greek week thing. Neither one of us was really into it, but I was there with Donna and I think she was just there 'cause everyone else was. Anyway, somehow we ended up dancing together and we won this stupid dance competition…"

David handed Claire the photograph. David, Brenda, Andrea, Brandon, Dylan and Kelly were standing by a pool, the sun shining so brightly down on them that every single one of them was squinting. They also all seemed to be dripping wet. Claire's eyes were drawn to Brenda, near the center of the frame. She was striking, not just because of the unique beauty Claire had noticed the other night, but because her smile wasn't the forced 'say-cheese' smile that people typically wore in photos. It was a vibrant, alive smile, a laughing smile, and her head was thrown back with the force of that laughter.

"She was in her element that day. No one can dance like Brenda," David smiled a little. "And from what Kelly said, she might have already been sick."

Claire reached out to him, wrapping her arms around his chest and laying her head on his shoulder. She didn't know what else to say.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"That's the doctor," Kelly announced needlessly, nudging Brandon as they both stood. Brenda was not with Dr. Dana.

"Mr. Walsh, Mrs. Walsh," the doctor greeted Brenda's parents.

"Where's Brenda?" Mrs. Walsh demanded, leaping to her feet. Mr. Walsh stood, laying a hand on his wife's back to calm her. It was a futile attempt. "Where's my daughter?"

"I've decided to admit her," the doctor pressed her clipboard to her chest and gave the Walshes a sympathetic smile. Kelly squeezed Brandon's hand as they all moved to gather around the doctor. "I'd like to take her to surgery as soon as possible. Until we get the biopsies done, we won't really know what we're dealing with. I intend to do the breast biopsy myself this afternoon, as soon as her blood work comes back, assuming I can find an open OR. I'm also going to test her lymph nodes. As to the brain biopsy…"

"Dr. Ross Greenfeld!"

Donna's voice was full of eagerness and pride as she literally jumped, holding a finger in the air. Everyone turned from Dr. Dana to look at Donna.

"My father talked to him first thing this morning. He's a neurosurgeon," she explained. "He's supposed to be really good and he's expecting your call."

"He's the best in L.A.," Dr. Dana nodded, impressed. "And an old friend from med school. I'll give him a call right now."

"Thank you," Mr. Walsh smiled at the doctor, and she smiled back. "Doctor, in your opinion…"

"Like I said," Dr. Dana cut in, looking down at her clipboard as she spoke. "I can't know for sure until the biopsy results are in."

"But?" Andrea pressed, paying even more attention than she normally paid authority figures. Kelly would have smiled if the situation were different.

"But, given her symptoms, her history, her family history, and the unlikelihood of her developing separate non-cancerous tumors…" the doctor trailed off, looking up at Brenda's parents again. She actually seemed upset by what she was saying. "At this point, I see no reason to disagree with the previous diagnosis."

"Can we see her?"

Steve's voice hitched and Kelly wasn't surprised. Underneath his sometimes piggish exterior, her ex-boyfriend was kind hearted and gentle. When his friends hurt, Steve hurt. It was the reason she'd been drawn to him in the first place.

"Just give her a few minutes to get settled, she's in room 312."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Brenda leaned back against the not-quite-comfortable hospital pillows and fought back tears. Her family and friends would no doubt be in to visit any time, and she didn't want them to see her cry. It wasn't like she hadn't known there would be hospital stays and surgeries. She just hadn't imagined it would happen right away.

_God, I'm not ready for this, _she thought. The breast biopsy was familiar enough, given that she'd been through it before, but the idea of some doctor she'd never even met cutting into her brain terrified her. _What if I don't wake up? What if I don't remember anyone when I do wake up? What if I lose the number seven, or the capital of Nebraska? Do I even know the capital of Nebraska?_

A knock interrupted her thoughts, and as her family and friends filed into her small hospital room, filling it with their presence, she forced a smile, which, after a few minutes, began to feel more genuine. She really was lucky to have them all here, all supporting her.

"These are from Dylan," Andrea said as she leaned down to kiss Brenda's cheek. She lay a bouquet of white orchids across Brenda's lap, and Brenda blinked back tears once more.

"They're beautiful," she whispered. "Is he here?"

Andrea pointed towards the door. Dylan stood just outside the door, staring through the small glass window. His face was unreadable, which was strange to Brenda, because she couldn't remember ever not being able to read his face at least a little bit. But then she saw the moisture in his eye.

And she mouthed for him to come in.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	8. Part Seven

A/N: Okay, now that everyone knows about Brenda's illness and we're getting into the treatment period, this is going to start moving more quickly, 'cause, quite frankly, the angst is kind of killing me to write :D. We'll also start getting into story lines for other characters – Val comes back next chapter, for example, and Donna and Ray are heading for turbulent times. I'm not quite sure what to do with David, Claire, Andrea and Steve; I know where I want them all to end up, but I'm not sure how to get them there. We'll see.

Anyway, this chapter is for Nikkycoly, who wanted to see Brenda and Dylan cry and hold each other.

**Part Seven**

As the nurse wheeled her back into her room after her first surgery, Brenda felt her eyes well up with happy tears for the first time in months.

The room was covered with flowers, balloons, boxes of chocolates, stacks of books and magazines, and about a dozen stuffed animals littered the bed, including Mr. Pony, although as far as she could tell everything else was new. On one night table by the bed, her treasured copies of the Complete Works of Shakespeare and the Complete Works of Oscar Wilde stood proud, on the other side, the table was littered with programs from plays she'd attended or starred in, going back as far as elementary school. The walls were taped with photographs, including several of Brenda on stage, some from last semester that Brenda hadn't known her parents had – and didn't know how they could have accessed them, and on one wall a mirror was hanging, with lights on either side of it, clearly intended to look like a backstage dressing room mirror.

And to top it all off, the room was filled with the people she loved. Kelly, Donna, Andrea and Steve sat on the room's second bed, which hadn't been occupied since she entered the room. Brandon and Dylan were both leaning against the wall facing her bed, and her parents were seated in the two chairs at the head of her bed.

"Oh my God," she whispered, one hand wiping the tears away from her face. "You guys, what did you do?"

"Do you like it?" Donna asked, hopping off the bed. "When we found out that Dr. Greenfeld couldn't see you until tomorrow, we wanted to make sure the room was comfortable for you tonight."

"Well, technically, you aren't supposed to tape anything to the walls," the nurse said from behind Brenda, smiling a little. "But seeing as Brenda doesn't have a roommate at the moment, I'll overlook this; although I am going to have to know what happened to the painting that was hanging where the mirror is."

"It's right here," Steve reached behind the bed he'd been sitting on and pulled out a boring oil painting of a can of wildflowers.

"Alright," the nurse helped Brenda out of the wheelchair, still smiling. "I'll be back to check on you soon."

"I'll save you a chocolate," Brenda smiled back, walking around the room to look at all the pictures. She burst out laughing when she saw the old picture of herself, Kelly, Dylan and the surfboard, taped back together before it was taped to the wall.

"I did that," Kelly sounded a little nervous as she walked over to stand behind Brenda. "I thought it could symbolize a fresh start. Is that okay?"

"I love it," Brenda answered, hugging Kelly quickly. "Really, guys, I love all of it."

"Nat's on his way over with dinner, too," Donna said, coming to stand at Brenda's other side. "So you don't have to eat hospital food."

"And we brought movies," Andrea waved a few VHS tapes in the air.

"_So you're into videotape huh?_"

Brenda smiled at the memory, and looking slyly over at Brenda, she saw him smiling, too, though she couldn't be sure he was smiling for the same reason.

"Thank you guys," she said to the room, turning to face all of her friends one by one, noting that David was still nowhere to be seen. "This is perfect."

"Did someone order megaburgers?" a familiar voice called through the door. A hand appeared, holding Peach Pit take out bags, and then Nat walked into the room. "Plus one veggie megaburger for our Laverne."

Blushing, Brenda laughed and thanked him, touched that he'd remembered her decision to stop eating meat. It had been difficult to keep it up in England, but here, in Los Angeles, she had been trying to keep vegetarian as much as she could.

"Plus, I brought a picture for the wall," Nat added, pulling a picture out of his pocket and holding it up. It was a snapshot of Brenda, pink uniform and all, lip synching, with Donna and Kelly dancing behind her. Brenda groaned playfully, but inside she was beaming that Nat had not only taken a picture of her playing Laverne, but also kept it so long.

"Ooooh, give me that," Donna took the photo from his hands and grabbed a roll of tape from the spare bed, taping the photo of Laverne up on the wall with the other photos. "There, perfect."

_It really is._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Brenda looked at her parents, seated at either side of her bed, in chairs that didn't look like they could be anything close to comfortable, although she knew both Mr. and Mrs. Walsh planned to spend the night in them. Brandon was sitting in a third chair that had materialized from seemingly out of nowhere, next to her father. The rest of their friends had drifted out, Donna leaving first to placate Ray for canceling plans with him, then Andrea leaving to save Jesse's mom from Hannah duty, then Steve, and finally Kelly. Now it was long past visiting hours, and only family was technically supposed to be in the room. Somehow, Dylan had convinced the nurses and her parents that he should be allowed to stay. Brenda wasn't quite sure how he'd managed that, but she was glad to see him still there, leaning against the wall near the foot of her bed.

"Mom, Dad," her eyes never left Dylan's as she spoke. "Could I have a minute alone with Dylan?"

She saw her parents exchange nervous glances and could almost hear their private dialogue. _'Is it worth it to fight her on this? How much damage can be done in a few minutes in a hospital room? Is there any way we can win this one?'_ Of course, the answer to both the first and last questions was no. Brenda wasn't quite sure about the second question.

"Brenda, you should be sleeping," Cindy spoke hesitantly.

"I can't sleep with you all hovering, anyway," Brenda argued firmly. "Please. Just a few minutes."

"Alright," Jim said, although she could see he spoke reluctantly. "A few minutes. We'll be right outside."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dylan watched the Walshes slowly file out of the room, catching the warning glances both Jim and Brandon shot him as they left. Finally, the door was closed behind them, and Dylan moved closer to the bed, sinking into the seat Jim had vacated. He reached out to take one of Brenda's hands in both of his. She reached out with her other hand and ran her fingers across his face.

"Hi," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion and unshed tears.

"Hi."

They didn't speak for a few moments, both worried that anything they said might sound too much like a goodbye neither one of them was prepared to say. Her fingers continued to dance over his face, stroking his brows, his nose, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. Finally he summoned the courage to ask her what she was doing.

"Memorizing you," she answered, still speaking at a whisper level. "In case something goes wrong tomorrow. I want to remember your face. I want to remember you…"

"None of that," he ordered, moving his face out of reach of her hand. "There's no need. Nothing will go wrong tomorrow."

"But if it does," she dropped her hand, but didn't drop the subject. "If it does I need to say…"

"Brenda, nothing will go wrong. You've got the best brain surgeon in Los Angeles. Dr. Dana is a breast cancer specialist. You are going to be fine."

"You don't know that," Brenda shook her head, and Dylan lifted a hand to wipe away the few tears that escaped her eyes. "You can't know that, Dylan."

There was another pause before Brenda spoke again.

"And just in case, I need you to know," she stopped trying to hold back the tears, and Dylan stopped trying to wipe them away, letting his hand rub her shoulder instead. "I need you to know how much I…"

"I know," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "Brenda, I know."

"I don't think you do."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Dylan," she began, uncertain how to explain everything she needed him to know, "when I look at you…"

How could she tell him, how could she make everything she felt clear to him? Especially given that she couldn't even seem to figure it out herself? She'd pushed him away just a few nights ago, and now all she wanted was to hold him close to her, as close as she could, to spend the rest of the time between now and the surgery kissing him, crying with him, loving him.

She wanted to make love to him again, although she knew that would be impossible, given the hospital bed, not to mention the nurses, her parents and her brother all checking in repeatedly throughout the night.

"When I look at you," she began again, "I see this amazing man, this man who's been through so much, and who feels so much, and this summer, when everything started to go wrong, I felt like that man was going to waste."

"Brenda…"

"Let me finish," she insisted, hearing the ferocity in her own voice, and shying away from it. He always made her feel so much, all at once. It terrified her. "Dylan, you have so much good in you, and it kills me that you don't see that. It kills me that you don't understand how intelligent you are…"

"I'm not…"

"You are. Who the Hell quotes Byron at sixteen? What eighteen year old spends the summer in Europe thinking about Rambeau, Baudelaire and Balzac?"

"So I'm well read…" he shrugged, looking embarrassed and doubtful.

"It's more than that," she shook her head. Her hand reached up of its own accord to stroke his face again. "A lot more than that. You're an amazing writer, and you're so strong. I don't know anyone else who could go through what you've been through and survive it."

"You could."

"I hope so," Brenda sighed. "The truth is you've always seemed like the oldest soul I know. You are extraordinary, Dylan McKay. And I need to know that you know that."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Without thinking, without even considering the other night, or any of their problems, he leaned forward and kissed her, the passionate, desperate kiss he'd been longing to give her since… since the last time he'd kissed her. It was only when he felt relief to find her kissing him back that he even remembered they weren't together.

"Bren," he whispered when they pulled away for air. His forehead still touched hers, and her hand was still laced in his hair. "What you said the other night… about us… that you couldn't even be my friend…"

"I didn't mean it," her fingers toyed with his hair almost roughly, but he didn't feel any pain. "I just need time, Dylan. I need you to be the guy you were last year. The guy that I can always count on, the guy I can always turn to. I need you to show me that you're the man I fell in love with."

Brenda looked down, away from him, for the first time since her parents had left the room.

"But there is a chance for us?"

"There always has been," she answered with a hesitant smile.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	9. Part Eight

A/N: Sorry for the delay between the last chapter and this one. There is a time jump in here, not of One Tree Hill proportions, but significant enough after how slowly this story has been moving that I thought I'd let you know about it. It's about two weeks after Part Seven left off, so CU is back in session, and Brenda and Val are both back at home, although they don't interact much this chapter. Speaking of One Tree Hill, though, I know I totally stole the last segment of this from Brooke/Lucas, but since Brooke/Lucas/Peyton stole their whole damn love triangle from Brenda/Dylan/Kelly, I figured it was okay.

**Part Eight**

"Pick me up up the street at 10:30, okay?" Val whispered into the phone. She was seated on the windowsill of the bedroom she'd shared with Brenda for the last week, and even though Brenda had moved out of the room and into the newly fixed up garage bedroom, she still felt weird about the whole situation.

"You still haven't told her?"

"No."

It was all too clear that in about three months Valerie had destroyed a fifteen year long friendship, and she didn't want to make it worse by saying the wrong thing, or by having Brenda find out about Stuart in the wrong way.

When she'd come back from paradise, Val had gone straight from the airport to the hospital, with Brandon explaining on the way that Brenda was back from England, probably dying of metastatic breast cancer, and in the hospital recovering from brain cancer, and that, by the way, when she got out of the hospital, Brenda and Val would be sharing a room until the garage was fixed up. The situation had been bad enough with just Dylan and cancer between them, but then Stuart dropped her off one night and mentioned that he'd once been engaged to a girl who lived in that house, and had she ever met the Walshes? All in all, Valerie felt like just about the worst person in the world.

She should have just stopped seeing him, but with everything that was going on, with Brenda sick and all of "the gang" making it damn clear that she had only been Brenda's replacement, and that now that Brenda was back, Val might as well clear out… Val was feeling vulnerable and lonely and scared for her friend, and Stuart was the only person who was in her corner. So she'd explained everything but the cancer to him, and asked him to let her tell the Walsh family in her own time.

Of course it had only been a week and already Stuart was impatient for her to tell Brenda the truth. He didn't like sneaking around very much. Val was tempted to remind him that Jim Walsh probably wouldn't appreciate another one of Brenda's exes sniffing around the family's latest charity case, but so far she'd held her tongue.

"Val…"

"Things are still all weird around here. I promise, I'll tell her soon."

In the meantime, she had a 'housewarming' party for Brenda's new bedroom tonight.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Once again, her friends had completely blown her away. The party had been Kelly's idea, a housewarming party in honor of Brenda's moving into the new fourth bedroom of the Walsh house. It had been dubbed "The Garage Apartment" because it came with its own bathroom and kitchenette, complete with stove, fridge and sink. The Walshes had done a great job making the garage inhabitable, covering cement floors with wood ones, painting the walls a golden cream color and picking out a nice double bed for her. Her father had even installed windows and built-in bookcases and cabinets to surround the kitchenette and give her enough storage space for all the things that had been boxed up in the garage since she moved away. It was a great room.

But, as Kelly had said, when it came to personality, the room was lacking.

"_That's the whole point of a house warming party,"_ Kelly had said. _"You get home decorating type presents, and you get to make us help you unpack and hang posters and stuff."_

And so Brenda had been talked into having her friends and their significant others crowd into her room "bearing pizza, presents and amazing unpacking abilities" according to Steve.

The gifts had been wonderful; from Donna, a novelty doorbell that sang "Be Our Guest" from Beauty and the Beast, because Brenda had dragged Donna and Kelly to the movie twice; she and Dylan had seen it at least four times. From Kelly, a light purple comforter for the bed, and gold colored sheets. David and Claire had given her a new stereo, while Steve gave her a set of martini glasses (she hadn't had the heart to tell him that all the medications meant she couldn't really drink). Andrea, Jesse and Hannah gave her a set of picture frames. Dylan gave her a vase of wildflowers, and a promise to keep the supply fresh. He'd also brought over fruit, spices, herbs and teas that Iris swore would help her heal faster.

Brandon and her parents had gone in together on a plush armchair, and Val had given her a floor lamp, both of which now sat in a corner of the room making up a cozy reading nook. Things had certainly been strained between Brenda and Val since Val's return from the tropics. Forced to share a room after Brenda was released from the hospital, they'd nearly come to blows several times, but they were both trying. They'd been friends since they were four and Brenda didn't want to let that go. She wanted to forgive Val for going after Dylan, although that was proving difficult.

The gift that had proven to be the piece de resistance, however, was from everyone; a big royal purple rug with gold drama masks in the center. It was a perfect match for the bed set that Kelly had given her. Even the chair from her parents matched the rug.

"We all pitched in," Andrea told her quietly, "but Dylan picked it out."

After Brenda opened her presents, her friends had helped her unpack. Her books now filled the built-in shelves, and the pictures and wall decorations from the hospital were now up on the walls. With the work done, her friends were lounging about, resting on the bed, the floor, on the armchair and on the small bench that tucked under the bed when it wasn't being used. Everyone was munching on the leftover pizza and chatting easily.

The garage was finally starting to feel like home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"That's the last of them," Brenda smiled, turning to Dylan as she closed the door. It was easy to see that she was exhausted as she crossed the room and sank onto her bed, now covered in the sheets and bedspread from Kelly.

A glance at the clock told Dylan that it was only ten thirty. Brenda used to be a night owl.

"Maybe I should go too," he offered, wanting to make sure she got her rest.

"No, please stay," Brenda propped herself up on her elbows, patting the bed next to her. "I don't want to sleep yet."

Shrugging, he settled beside her, awkwardly making sure that they weren't touching. They hadn't been alone together since the night before her brain surgery and Dylan wasn't' quite sure how to behave. It had been two weeks since that night, and one week since she was released from the hospital, and even though he'd seen her every day since then, there was always at least one Walsh around. He hadn't really been able to figure out where they stood.

He hadn't had the nerve to try.

"The room looks nice," he said. It wasn't quite _'I-love-you-I-need-you-I-miss-you-Please-tell-me-everything's-forgiven-and-let-me-kiss-you-and-tell-me-that-you'll-be-okay.' _Dylan told himself he was working his way up to it.

"Yeah," Brenda continued to stare at the ceiling. "I think Val has a new boyfriend."

_Val? Why are we talking about Val?_

"She hasn't said anything but I've seen her sneak out at night," Brenda continued. It wasn't clear whether she was just making small talk or if this was something that was really bothering her. "Rich guy too. He has the same kind of car that Stuart used to have."

_Stuart? As in Carson? Now we're talking about Stuart Carson?_

"I think about him sometimes," she was still talking. About Stuart Carson. Why the Hell was she still talking about Stuart Carson? "Not in a regretful way or anything. I just wonder about him. If he wonders about me."

"How could he not?" Dylan rolled onto his side and gently let his fingers graze her hair. "You're a very mysterious person, Brenda Walsh."

"I didn't think I was a mystery to you."

She rolled onto her side and met his eyes. Dylan found himself shaking his head and laughing, though there was little humor in the sound.

"The longer I know you, the more of a mystery you are to me."

Their eyes met and held for a few long moments before Brenda rolled over once more, staring at the ceiling again, this time with more focus than before. _That was an opening for you to tell me what you're feeling Bren,_ he thought to himself, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

He knew that Brenda was going through Hell and that she didn't need yet another person laying demands on her doorstep. Her mother was a wreck and had taken to bursting into tears whenever she was alone with Brenda. Her friends were trying to help, but they needed constant reassurance that they _were_ helping and he knew Brenda felt as isolated as ever because of it.

Gifts and parties were great, but what Brenda really needed was for someone to listen to her, to hold her when she needed it and to leave her alone when she needed it, to be with her with no expectations and no demands. If he started asking her to clarify their relationship, he wouldn't be that person, and Dylan couldn't do that to her.

Her needs were more important to him than his own.

So he changed the subject.

"Jonesy found Kevin and Suzanne," he announced. "He thinks he can get my money back. Apparently they're in Mexico. He wanted me to go."

"To Mexico?"

"I told him no," Dylan hurried to assure her. "You need me here. He understood. He tried to up his share to sixty percent instead of fifty, but he understood."

"Dylan, you should go," Brenda reached for his hand and squeezed, meeting his eyes again. "If it were just money that would be one thing, but you need to get Erica away from them. You know she needs you."

"You need me too."

"One damsel in distress at a time, McKay," Brenda teased, gently poking him in the nose with one index finger. "I'll be fine for a few days. You're all that Erica has in the world."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ray, I don't understand why you're upset," Donna stared at her boyfriend, feeling like he was a complete stranger.

He'd always been a bit controlling, but ever since Brenda had come home, Ray had been more demanding than ever. Quite honestly, Donna was sick of it, and a little frightened by it.

She needed Ray right now. She needed him to understand that she was incredibly torn, that she had finals and obligations and that she wanted to spend as much time as possible with Brenda, in case… She wasn't even going to finish that thought. When she was done with all of that, Donna wanted to be able to curl up in Ray's arms and cry herself to sleep.

He wasn't making it easy on her.

"You don't understand why I'm upset?" Ray exclaimed angrily. "You don't understand why I'm upset?!"

"Ray…"

"Donna, I haven't seen you in days," he slammed his fist against the living room wall and Donna flinched at the sound.

"I told you, I have…"

"Finals and obligations," he bit out sarcastically. "Yeah, I know, and I'm the dumb, poor boyfriend who couldn't possibly understand those things…"

"Ray, I never said that!"

Why was he being so hateful?

"And if it isn't finals it's this Brenda bitch."

"You need to leave now," Donna tried to keep her voice steady, but she moved to the door, holding it open for him. "I said now."

"Donna…"

"Leave, Ray."

His hands grabbed her shoulders suddenly and Donna shrieked. Before she knew what was happening, her back was against the wall. Donna felt tears leak from her eyes.

"Donna, baby," he was whispering. "I need you to understand. I go crazy when I can't see you. And I don't understand why this Brenda person gets to see so much of you when I don't…"

"Brenda's sick," Donna whispered. "She's really really sick."

"Get your hands off of her," Kelly's voice was cold as steel, and Donna heard it before she saw her friend and roommate put her hand on Ray's arm. "Claire, call the cops."

Claire began dialing 9-1-1 from across the room, but before she got to the second one, Ray let go of Donna, whispering his name as he did so. Donna looked away.

"Fine. I'm leaving. I'm gone."

Claire and Kelly wrapped their arms around Donna as Ray stalked out of the apartment. As he disappeared into the distance, they heard the sound of a potted plant smashing to the ground, and all three women flinched.

"I'm calling the police anyway," Claire announced. Donna didn't try to stop her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Light was streaming in through one of the new windows and Brenda groaned as she rolled over in bed. Six in the morning. It was far too early for her to be awake, but the slight ache in her head told her she needed to take a painkiller before she went back to sleep. The surgery had removed the tumor, but the doctors had all informed her that the migraines might not go away. Ever.

She'd climbed out of bed and was making her way over to the cabinet where she'd unpacked her various medications when she caught sight of a car driving out of the driveway. A car that looked distinctly like Dylan's. Curious, she walked over to the door to get a better look.

There was a cardboard box in front of her door, with a note taped to the lid. Brenda opened the door and picked up the box. The note was definitely in Dylan's handwriting. Painkillers forgotten, she lugged the box over to her armchair and opened the note.

'_Dear Brenda,_

_I'm leaving for Mexico this morning, but I promise I will be back, Erica in tow, before your chemo treatments begin. Iris knows where to reach me if anything happens. _

_In this box are the letters I sent you last semester, the ones you sent back. I promise that this is the last time I'll mention these letters or put any pressure on you to be more than friends. The last thing I want is to add to the pressure you're under, so the ball's in your court, Brenda. I will play whatever role you need me to, but if you ever need to know where I stand, or how I feel, these letters will tell you._

_I apologize in advance for anything dated September to October._

_~Dylan'_


	10. Part Nine

A/N: I'm not going to actually write very much of the trip to Mexico, because as far as this story is concerned, that's going to go pretty much the same way that it did on screen; the only thing that's going to change is the reaction to the trip back in Beverly Hills. Sorry if people were looking forward to those scenes, but I don't think

**Part Nine**

It was like junior year all over again; except that this time, the excuse had nothing to do with any kind of flea market, and the brunette sneaking out of the Walsh house to run to Mexico with Dylan was Valerie.

Valerie Malone.

Valerie Malone is going to Mexico with Dylan McKay.

No matter how many times she thought the words, or reminded herself of Dylan's explanations, no matter how many times she replayed Valerie's nervous explanation or the pleading look on her friend(former friend?)'s face, Brenda just couldn't wrap her head around the idea.

She'd known about Val and Dylan for months, but it had never seemed real until now.

"I think you're overreacting," Donna announced, stirring her milkshake with a straw. She, Brenda, Kelly and Andrea had resumed their weekly 'sorority' sister meetings at the Peach Pit, and they were gossiping over milkshakes and fries. "Dylan is completely in love with you."

"Didn't he just give you that big box of letters?" Andrea added, munching at a French fry, and trying to hide a glance at the clock. Andrea was always nervous to leave Hannah for too long. "He knows better than to screw it up this time."

"And you said yourself that Val has been sneaking out at night with some unknown rich guy," Kelly offered with a smirk. "No way Valerie Malone chooses broke Dylan over guy with a… what kind of car was it? A Mercedes, right?"

"I guess," Brenda shrugged. "He did say that he needed someone that Kevin and Suzanne wouldn't recognize, and I can't exactly run off to Mexico right now anyway…"

"See?" Donna smiled brightly. "Overreacting."

"But that's the point," Brenda frowned into her milkshake. "I'm always going to overreact. I'm always going to wonder if he's seeing someone else when he's not with me. I'm always going to wonder if I'm really his only girlfriend or if…"

She trailed off, not ready to reveal to her friends her deepest worry when it came to Dylan. Then she caught the look on Kelly's face.

"Kel, I'm sorry," she shook her head. "Let's talk about something else, okay?"

"No, you're right," Kelly picked up a fry and then dropped it back onto her plate. "You're always going to wonder whether you can trust him. And whether you can trust me."

"That's not what I was going to say."

"But it is true," Kelly met Brenda's eye and for the first time, Brenda saw real guilt on her friend's face. Donna and Andrea were suddenly completely engrossed in a side conversation and pretended not to notice Brenda and Kelly's suddenly serious discussion. "Brenda, I am so, so sorry."

"Kelly, it's in the past, okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Kelly shook her head emphatically. "I promised you that I wouldn't go after him, at that slumber party sophomore year, I promised you that you could trust me with your boyfriend, and then I broke that promise. And the thing is, when I finally got him, it was beyond clear that he was still in love with you."

Brenda felt tears brewing in her eyes, and saw a few running down her friend's face. They hadn't really had an honest discussion about Dylan since… they had never really had an honest discussion about Dylan.

"Brenda, I am so, so sorry."

Brenda smiled through her tears and reached across the table for Kelly's hand.

"I forgive you," she told her friend, and she realized as she said it that she actually meant it. And if she could forgive Kelly for having a relationship with Dylan behind Brenda's back, surely she could forgive Valerie for having meaningless sex with Dylan after they'd broken up. Right?

"What were you going to say?" Andrea asked, after Brenda and Kelly had hugged it out.

"What?"

"Earlier, you said you weren't going to say what Kelly thought you were going to say," Andrea fixed Brenda with her best curious and determined look, and Brenda wondered for the thousandth time why Andrea Zuckerman was studying medicine instead of journalism. "So what were you going to say?"

Brenda sighed, seeing Donna and Kelly looking on with equally interested expressions. No way she was going to get out of answering now.

"I'm always going to wonder if he's only with me because he thinks I'm dying and he feels sorry for me."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Brando," Steve slid into a seat next to Brandon, who was studying in the campus center by the coffee stand. "How's it hanging?"

"It's hanging," Brandon shrugged. "What are you still doing on campus?"

"Just got out of my last final," Steve smirked, fist pumping the air. "And I'm guessing you still have at least one more."

"In two hours," Brandon sighed. It was actually fairly amazing that he had made it through finals week at all, given how distracted he was. Each exam felt like the PSATs all over again, except that he couldn't just walk out and take them over again when Brenda was better. If Brenda got better.

"How's Brenda doing?" Steve seemed to read his mind, looking curiously at Brandon. "Is she okay?"

_Great, it's time for the hourly Brenda report, _Brandon thought with a mental groan. It seemed like every time he ran into one of their friends, everyone asked about Brenda right away. It was hard enough to deal with his sister's condition and his own feelings about it on his own in private, but to have everyone he knew ask him about it constantly only added to his struggle.

"She's… I don't know, man," he shrugged honestly, not wanting Steve to see his frustration. Steve was a good friend and genuinely concerned. And Brandon should be happy that so many people cared how Brenda was, although, in the back of his mind he was wondering why they hadn't been concerned last semester, when she'd seemed to be healthy and having the time of her life. "Most days she seems fine. Actually, I hardly see her. She stays in the garage most of the time."

"But they still think the surgery went well and everything, right?"

"Yeah, they got rid of both tumors on the first tries," Brandon looked at the coffee stand and mentally cursed when he saw it was closed. He needed a distraction that wasn't centered around studying or his sister. "But she still needs to go through chemotherapy in a few weeks, and then eventually radiation and everything."

"But if the tumors are gone, she'll be okay, right?"

"I wish it was that simple," Brandon shook his head sadly. He'd had the same initial assumption, as had his parents. With Sheila it had been different; they'd done ten surgeries before eventually removing both breasts just to get rid of the cancer. It had seemed like so much of a struggle. "The cancer's still in her blood stream though."

"So she's still got a fight."

Brandon only nodded.

_I am so going to fail this exam too._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You were pretty quiet back there," Kelly nodded towards the Peach Pit as she and Donna walked out to her car. Andrea was driving Brenda back to the Walsh house; Brenda's mom was watching Hannah, so Andrea had to swing out that way anyway. Donna and Kelly were headed back to the beach apartment, to enjoy the rest of their first day after finals. Registration for the next semester began in just a few days, and Kelly was determined to rest before then.

"I just didn't want to talk about Ray," Donna shrugged, her voice quiet. "I'm having a hard enough time with us breaking up; I don't want everyone to know how it happened."

"Donna, if he hit you like that once, he'll do it again," Kelly said sternly, putting the keys in the ignition. "He isn't a good guy."

"They say that about cheaters too."

"What?"

"The thing about if he does it once he'll do it again," Donna was staring determinedly out the window. "They say it about cheaters too. But everyone's saying Brenda should forgive Dylan, even though he cheated on her more than once. Maybe even more than twice. And Brandon was with Emily while you were burning alive…"

"Thanks for the reminder, that wasn't the most memorable night of my life or anything," Kelly snapped angrily. "You can't possibly be thinking about forgiving Ray."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Donna he shoved you into a wall!" Kelly had been staring at Donna in shock and had to swerve quickly into the next lane to make their turn, narrowly avoiding an accident as she did so. "You have to understand how wrong that is!"

"It's not any worse than anything Brandon or David or Dylan or Steve has done," Donna snapped back, leaping out of the car and slamming the door as soon as they reached the apartment. "It's not like he meant to hurt me!"

"Well then I guess he shouldn't have grabbed your arms and pushed you into a wall!" Kelly yelled, knowing she was repeating herself, but not understanding how Donna could even consider forgiving Ray. "That is so much worse than ANYTHING any of our friends has EVER done!"

"He was hurting," Donna's voice lowered, and Kelly saw her looking around the beach to make sure no one would overhear. "I haven't had much time for him lately and…"

"Donna," Kelly stepped closer to her friend, the anger melting out of her voice. "Sweetie, you shouldn't have to explain yourself about this. Nothing you could possibly have done deserved that kind of treatment. And even if he hadn't hurt you like that, he had no right to be angry at you in the first place."

"Didn't he?" Donna slumped into Kelly's waiting arms, and her voice hitched with tears. "I've only been in three relationships, and all of them have ended with me getting cheated on or screamed at or… It's me, right? I'm a terrible girlfriend…"

"Oh Donna," Kelly stroked her friend's hair, remembering a time when she'd thought that she deserved to be treated the way the boys at West Beverly had treated her, boys like Ross Webber. "Donna, you didn't do anything wrong. Not with David and not with Ray. Definitely, definitely, one hundred percent not with Ray."

Donna just continued to sniffle in Kelly's arms, and Kelly held her friend, wishing she had been there for Donna last spring, when she had been so wrapped up in her new relationship with Brandon that she hadn't wanted to take sides between her best friend and her brother. She'd only wanted to avoid conflict, not to let Donna think she deserved this kind of treatment.

"No one deserves to be treated the way Ray treated you, Donna."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taking a deep breath, Brenda sank onto her bed, pulling out the box of letters from Dylan. He'd said that these would tell her how he really felt, and she was ready to find out. She was pretty sure that she was ready to find out. She thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	11. Part Ten

A/N: This one's for the people who're anxious to read the letters, or at least one of them :D

**Part Ten**

Brenda was beginning to regret ever opening the box of letters from Dylan.

For the most part, they seemed to be drunken ramblings about how stupid she was to leave Beverly Hills, or how stupid he was to let her go, along with a few about Valerie, and more about Brandon and Kelly. In almost all of them, Dylan waxed philosophical about the nature of betrayal and the senselessness of trusting anyone. While she was pleased to find out that Valerie had been the pursuer in that particular relationship, and that he hadn't even known who she was at first, that knowledge was about the only good thing to come of her reading the letters so far.

And then she finally came to a letter written while he was in rehab. Checking the date, she realized why he'd apologized for the letters that were written in September and October. Those had been the months that he'd struggled with addiction. The angry months. The Valerie months.

_Please let the rest of these help me figure him out,_ Brenda thought desperately, before she began reading the first of the sober letters.

'_Dear Brenda,_

_I told you when you left that I would applaud you from afar. I haven't been doing a good job of that, I know. I don't have any excuses or explanations for my behavior since you left, or at least, no explanations that would actually explain anything._

_I know I pestered you with my other letters, and I just wanted to promise you that I won't any more. Actually, I probably won't even send this one, since I suspect you won't read it. All I can hope is that someday you'll forgive me enough to read this._

_Brenda, I love you. I told you once that I loved you more than I had ever loved anyone, that that was our problem. It wasn't one of my shining moments – if you had leaned even a centimeter closer, I would have kissed you then and there, and I know I would have lost you forever if I had. You were never willing to help me cheat on Kelly, and I'm glad for that, in a strange way._

_You always made me a better person, Brenda. Other people in my life have loved me for the person they think I could be, if I were sober, if I weren't a cheater, if… a lot of ifs. You have always treated me as if I already am the person they think I could be. You hold me to higher standards and I know that I lash out at you because of it sometimes, but I have always been grateful for it. _

_I assume you're studying Shakespeare at the RADA, and, in honor of our romantic poetry class, I have a quote for you. It's from sonnet number 102._

"_My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming._

_I love not less, though less the show appear."_

_Brenda, I'm an idiot (a fact that's been well-established since our first date, I'll grant you). I'm an idiot, and I know I've hurt you. But it has never meant that I love you less. I only love you more, for the person you've become and for the way you've forgiven me in the past. For the way you've risen past everything and become your own person, in spite of everything that's held you back – or tried to hold you back, since I don't think anything actually could._

_I can only hope that you will find it in yourself to forgive me again, some day, and I hope that you can understand how much I have always loved you._

_Maybe someday, that love will be enough for us._

_Love always,_

_Dylan_

_P.S. From now on, I will keep my promise, and I will be applauding from afar. Actually, I'll be giving you constant standing ovations from afar. It's no more than you deserve.'_

Tears slid down Brenda's face as she set the letter down. There were more unopened letters in the box, but unlike the ones she'd already read, he'd never even tried to send these. It just figured Dylan would send the letters that would only serve to alienate her, and keep the ones that might have drawn them closer together.

The rest of the letters seemed more like journal entries, giving her details about his days at rehab and about the people he'd met there, telling her about their friends' lives. And then she came to a letter about Kelly and the fire, and Brenda knew she would be able to finally and completely forgive him, once and for all.

His concern for Kelly came alive on the page, but it was a friend's concern, not a lover's. It wasn't the panic that she'd heard in Brandon's voice when he'd called to tell her what had happened.

_Dylan loves me._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	12. Part Eleven

A/N: Some of my reviewers have asked for more Brandon/Kelly scenes, and more Brandon/Brenda bonding scenes. Hopefully this part will please those reviewers. Also,

I know I've gotten several reviews looking for a Donna/David reunion. I personally am a David/Valerie fan, but if people are more interested in seeing Donna/David, it does fit into the plotline a little easier. SO I propose a vote for my readers: Donna/David, or David/Valerie (even if the latter means some strange and contrived plot twisting)?

Get your votes in – and keep in mind that I have a vague idea of doing a sequel or an epilogue type thing, so the couple that ends this story might not end up together in this author's universe. :D

**Part Eleven**

Brandon sank into the sand by the water's edge outside Kelly's apartment, and watched the few surfers attempting to tackle the waves. He'd heard that surfing after dark was an incredibly dangerous thing to do, but there were at least two people on the water who appeared not to have gotten the memo. On the other hand, the sun hadn't quite sunken into the sky, so maybe surfing at sunset wasn't as dangerous as surfing at night. Of course, surfing in January at all seemed alien to Brandon, who was, somewhere very deep down inside, still a Minnesota boy waiting for below zero temperatures and blizzards to signal the true start of winter.

"Hi stranger," Brandon looked up to see his girlfriend standing over him, a concerned smile on her face. "Claire said you didn't want to come in."

"Yeah, I was hoping we could spend some time alone."

"That sounds nice," Kelly said as she sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder, and Brandon automatically wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head. It seemed like it had been forever since they'd had any couple time. With the fire, Emily Valentine and Kelly's recovery, and then with Brenda's unexpected return home, and the seemingly endless battle against her illness, not to mention the trouble between Donna and Ray, both Kelly and Brandon had been wrapped up in obligations to their families and their friends. "It's been awhile."

"Yeah."

"I missed you," Kelly said, turning in his arms to face him. "God knows I love Brenda but I was really counting on having time alone over Christmas break."

"I know," Brandon leaned forward to kiss her gently. The kiss quickly got out of hand, and when they pulled apart for air, Brandon saw a teenage boy down the beach giving him a thumbs up. "We have a fan."

Kelly turned, causing the teenager to blush bright red, and they both laughed. Turning back to face each other, Brandon and Kelly leaned their foreheads against each other and smiled.

"I missed you too."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Placing the phone back in its cradle, Dylan looked at Valerie, sitting across the room at the combination desk and vanity, and sighed. He could hear the disappointment in Brenda's voice when he'd told her that he would be in Mexico (with Val) at least a few more days, but he didn't see what else he could do. Brenda certainly wouldn't approve of his abandoning Erica to Kevin and Suzanne.

"Trouble in paradise?" Val looked up with a smirk.

Sometimes, Dylan wondered how in the world Brenda and Valerie had ever become friends in the first place. Brenda was at home, sick and waiting for him, and Valerie looked downright pleased to find out that she was unhappy.

"Sorry," Valerie muttered, obviously catching the look on his face. Her own face fell. "I know things are… I know things are bad, okay?"

It was clear for several minutes that Valerie had more that she wanted to say, but something held her back from saying it. Dylan knew that feeling all too well, especially when it came to Brenda. Especially now, when there was so much to be said, but he wanted to avoid hurting her any more than she was already hurting. Finally, Valerie spoke.

"Dylan, can I ask you something?" Valerie looked down at her hands, and Dylan realized he hadn't ever seen her nervous before. Valerie Malone had always seemed steady and confident; she'd reminded him of Brenda, in that regard. If she was ever anything but sure of herself, she didn't let other people see her doubts. Of course, the myriad of connections between her and Brenda had been part of Val's allure. "How bad is it, really?"

"It?"

"Brenda," Valerie stood up and walked over to the room's only bed, sitting at the end of it. "Is she dying?"

_God, I hope not._

"I don't know."

"I was there, when her Aunt Sheila died," Val looked close to tears. In that moment, Dylan realized that he hadn't ever really known Valerie at all. The confident, manipulative, self-assured and sexy woman who'd come onto him in the pool hall was a front for a woman he'd never even met until this exact moment. "It was awful."

Dylan didn't know what to say. He could tell Val that they caught it early, that Brenda would be fine, except that Dylan and Val both knew that so far every doctor had agreed that the brain tumor had probably first appeared sometime last winter at the latest. That meant that the original tumor had been there even longer. So instead of comforting each other, they sat in a silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. It just was.

"We've been friends for fifteen years," Valerie let one tear slide down her face, but no more. Even now she was shielding herself from him, leading Dylan to wonder what she was hiding. "Longer than me and Brandon, even. She was the only person who believed me when my father… Never mind."

She trailed off after that, and Dylan didn't push for more information. He knew what it was like to cut yourself off from talking about your father. It never meant anything remotely good. The silence returned, and for longer this time, until finally, it was Dylan who broke it.

"Val, if you've been friends for so long, why did you come after me the way you did?"

It was probably the wrong thing to ask, but he'd been wondering for a long time; actually, he'd been wondering since he dropped her off at the Walsh house that first time. And Dylan had a feeling that if he didn't ask her now, he wouldn't ever get an honest answer.

"At first, I was testing you," Val shrugged, trying to seem casual, but Dylan could see the guilt on her face, and the gesture seemed forced to him. "To see how much you really loved her, if you did."

"And?"

"From the way you kept trying to turn me into her?"

"I didn't…"

"You did," Val smiled sadly. "Maybe not on purpose, but you made it clear that she was the one you wanted. Of course, by then, I had started to see what she saw in you."

"I'm sorry," Dylan looked away. He'd spent so long feeling guilty over how he'd treated Brenda that he hadn't stopped to think about how he'd treated Valerie. Using her to replace her best friend hadn't been one of his finer moments. Neither had using Kelly to replace the same best friend.

_I've really got to get Brenda to stop going to Europe, _he thought. O_r at least I have to get her to bring all her female friends with her next time. Or me._

"I knew what I was getting into," Val answered. "Think she'll ever forgive us?"

"I think she'll come around," Dylan smiled. "If we grovel first."

"Even if I'm dating Stuart Carson and I haven't told her about it?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Something's bothering you," Kelly gently ran her hand across Brandon's face and she leaned down to kiss his eyelids. They were lying on her bed, after a disastrous attempt at skinny dipping that had left them both laughing hysterically and shivering so bad they'd taken a very long hot shower and were now curled up under every blanket Kelly owned. "Something's been bothering you all night."

Brandon made a soft sound of agreement but remained silent. It had been like this between them for too long, Kelly decided. First she'd been keeping her own insecurities and then later Brenda's secret from him, and he'd kept his… whatever it was with Emily from her. Now they were both dancing around the topic of Brenda's illness without ever saying anything. It would be one thing if she thought he was talking to someone else, but she knew he and Brenda weren't talking about it either. Brenda had mentioned several times since she got home that Brandon was distant and that most days she barely saw him. It all left Kelly almost as worried about her boyfriend as she was about his sister.

And if the new, distant and non-communicative Brandon was some kind of defense mechanism over Brenda's being sick, well… she was only going to get worse before she got better, and Kelly had not broken up with Dylan because she enjoyed having a boyfriend who was being distant and non-communicative because of Brenda Walsh. Whether Brenda was the guy's sister or ex-girlfriend didn't matter. Kelly had both been there and done that and she wasn't about to let Brandon get away with it.

"Please talk to me."

"You know there have been studies that say twins usually die ten or more years apart?" Brandon spoke softly without opening his eyes. "Ten or more years without Brenda…"

"You don't know that she's going to die, Brandon."

"The metastatic breast cancer survival rates…"

"Are just statistics," Kelly interrupted him quickly. "Brenda's been the exception to most rules as long as I've known her."

"Maybe," Brandon opened his eyes and met Kelly's. "But even if she survives this, Kelly, she's never going to be the same person again. She's had brain surgery; she's had a piece of her breast removed. In a few weeks she's going to go into chemo and she'll go bald and she'll get sick and she'll never be Brenda again."

"That's not true, Brandon," Kelly sat up and let the blankets fall to her waist, turning her back to Brandon so that he could see the scars from the fire clearly. "You said that this," she waived her hand awkwardly at her back, "didn't change who I was. Cancer doesn't change who Brenda is, either. She's still Brenda."

"No, she's not."

"Brandon!"

"Kelly, she's exhausted all the time," he sat up, wrapping an arm around Kelly and pulling her close to him. "She goes to bed by ten every night and some days she still doesn't wake up until noon. She hardly eats and she barely ever goes out. She doesn't cry or shout or throw fits at anything, even though I know she's in pain and I know my mother constantly crying and or cooking is driving her crazy and my father suggesting she get a job to pass the time isn't helping either! As long as I can remember, Brenda has overreacted to every little thing that has ever happened, but when she has cancer, she's just… she's just quiet."

Brandon's voice fell to a whisper, and he sank back onto the bed, away from Kelly, although she followed him, laying her head against his chest and kissing every inch of skin she could find.

"She's depressed, Brandon," Kelly whispered quietly against his skin. "It's not just the cancer. She went through a lot with Dylan this fall, stuff we don't even know about. And because of the stuff with Dylan, she doesn't feel like she can trust anyone; not him, not me, not Valerie, and not any of our friends because no one stood up for her. And on top of that, she had to give up everything she's worked for. I remember her talking about the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts back in high school, Brandon. That place was like the Holy Grail to her. She never thought she had a chance. And then when she got in, she had to leave after one semester. And _**then **_there's the cancer, and the fact that she's afraid to let your parents see how scared she is, or how sick she is, because she knows how hard this whole thing is for your Mom."

"I didn't think about all that," Brandon gave Kelly a small, sad smile that broke Kelly's heart. "Have I told you yet that I'm glad you two are friends again?"

"You haven't," Kelly answered, leaning up to kiss him softly. "But I know the feeling… or I would, if you two could be friends again."

"What should I do?" Brandon shook his head. "She won't open up to me."

"Oh Brandon," Kelly sighed, one hand reaching up to his face once more, stroking his cheek with care. She would give anything to be able to fix this for them, both Brandon and Brenda. She would give anything to see them as close as they'd used to be, back when she'd felt that being Brenda's best friend meant competing with Brandon, in a way. They'd both chosen their respective relationships with Dylan over Brenda, and they'd both lost big because of it.

"All I can tell you is that you have to try," Kelly said finally. "If she can open up to me, and to Dylan, she'll open up to you."

"I'll talk to her," Brandon announced after a few quiet moments. "Tomorrow."

He leaned up to kiss Kelly, rolling them so that she was more fully on top of him. Kelly let out a squeal of laughter before their lips met, and the laughter turned into a moan.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I'll get it," Brenda announced, getting up from the dining room table to answer the door. After yet another awkward dinner with her parents, the distraction was more than welcome. Cindy had barely spoken throughout the meal, except to tell Brenda to eat more, and Jim had been overcompensating. He tried so hard to find something that would distract everyone from Brenda's illness that it felt like cancer was sitting right at the table with them, not saying anything, just glaring at each member of the Walsh family in turn, refusing to be ignored.

_I wish I was dating Kelly, so I could escape like Brandon does, _Brenda thought with a sigh, as she pulled open the door.

Her jaw dropped.

"Brenda!"

"Stuart."

_Wait a minute, he sounded surprised… why's he here if he didn't expect to see me?_

"I, uh, um…" Stuart was actually blushing, which almost caused Brenda to smirk. He hardly seemed like the suave guy who'd swept her off her feet last year. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Stuart," Brenda heard her father's voice behind her, and turned to see her parents standing in the archway between the hall and the dining room. Catching her mother's questioning look, Brenda shrugged, raising an eyebrow, trying to convey that she had no idea what her ex-fiancé was doing in their house. "This is a surprise."

"Well, see, why I'm here… is Val home?"

"Val?!" Cindy exclaimed before Brenda even registered the question. Jim's eyebrows shot up his forehead. "How do you know Val?"

"She hasn't told you, has she?" Stuart shifted from one foot to the other. "See, we've kind of been seeing each other," he said, all in one breath. "She told me to pick her up on the corner, but I've been waiting and she didn't show up so I thought…"

"She's in Mexico," Brenda answered, biting back a less than polite comment about Val and street corners. "She left a few days ago."

"Oh, uh, well… I'll go then," Stuart turned to walk back the way he came, but he quickly turned back to face Brenda again. "Don't be mad at her. She didn't know who I was until a few weeks ago, and she felt really bad about it…"

Brenda just watched as he turned again and left the Walsh property. She made sure to keep a calm exterior – the last thing she needed was for her parents to think that she was pining over Stuart on top of everything else. Inside, though, she was fuming.

_First Dylan, now Stuart… what the Hell is Val's problem????_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	13. Part Twelve

A/N: This is a very long chapter, and a very Walsh chapter. The family is kind of just now dealing with Brenda's diagnosis and their reactions to it, etc. There is some Dylan in the chapter, and he will definitely be back by the next chapter, so he and Brenda can start to work on their issues :D. Anyway, I hope this is a good chapter; I know it's been awhile, but I've been back at school and I'm trapped in classes and homework and finding a job.

**Part Twelve**

The sun was already creeping over the horizon by the time Brandon killed the ignition and leaned back in his seat. The lights in the garage and in the kitchen were both on, completely destroying the whole purpose behind his decision to crawl out of Kelly's bed at four thirty in the morning and drag himself home instead of sleeping in and waking up in his girlfriend's arms. If both Brenda and his parents were well aware that he'd spent _most _of the night at the beach apartment, there was no reason not to spend the whole night there.

Still, the college dating rules had never been fully defined, and Brandon wasn't sure how he was supposed to behave. His parents had stopped enforcing curfews, but he still got the feeling that spending the night out would be frowned upon. He also knew that if Brenda or Val spent the night out there would be Hell to pay. He didn't particularly want to make that inevitable fight any worse by getting away with staying out all night himself.

With a sigh, Brandon slid out of the car and made his way to the kitchen door.

"Mom?"

The kitchen was absolutely covered in baked goods; muffins, croissants, pastries, and more, were all over the counters and the kitchen table. His mother was the only Walsh who could possibly be responsible, although it would have to mean she'd been up all night.

"Brandon,' she exclaimed, walking in from the dining room. Through the archway he could see that the dining room table was also covered. "You're home late."

"I kind of lost track of time," he shrugged sheepishly. "What is all this?"

"I volunteered to make breakfast for the shelter," Cindy picked up a mixing bowl filled with batter and began to stir. "You know they can't afford to serve food unless a volunteer provides it for them? I think that says something about America's priorities, don't you?"

"Uh… yeah," Brandon sat down at the counter. The shelter where the Walshes normally volunteered only housed 12 people at a given time. His mother had already made enough to serve 50 people and she didn't show any signs of stopping. "Don't you think you've made enough, Mom?"

"It never hurts to be over-prepared."

There was no way this was about the shelter, Brandon knew. Each of the Walshes handled bad news in their own ways, but Brenda and Cindy's ways were markedly similar; his sister cleaned and organized, while his mother cooked (and cooked and cooked and cooked and…). Cindy poured the batter into the muffin tins and slid the latest batch into the oven. She immediately began combining ingredients for a new batch.

"Did something happen last night?" Brandon asked, nervous about whatever it was that had sent his mother into this tailspin. She didn't respond. "Mom?"

"I told you," she began stirring vigorously. "This is for the shelter."

"You've been up all night," Brandon shook his head. "There's no way the shelter expects you to put this much effort in. No one else would."

"Brandon, let it go."

"She's going to be okay."

"We don't know that," Cindy dropped the spoon and although her back was to him, Brandon could hear her voice shaking. "The fact is the odds are against her."

"But she's Brenda," Brandon got off his stool and went over to his mother. "She's too strong to let the cancer beat her. Not now. Not when she's got her career and her family…"

"Sheila was strong," Cindy turned to face him, and Brandon could see tear tracks on her face. "Sheila had all those things. Cancer has nothing to do with any of that, Brandon. Sheila didn't die because she wasn't strong enough or brave enough or good enough. She died because she wasn't lucky enough."

"I didn't mean that it was Aunt Shiela's fault," Brandon said, stunned that his mother could even think that he would say that. He'd never thought about it that way at all, to be honest. God, what his mother must be going through, if she heard every well-meaning platitude as a condemnation of her sister. "All I meant was… Brenda's young. She's got the best doctors on the west coast. Both tumors were removed. I know she's still sick, but Mom… she's got a chance. I have to believe she has a chance."

"A chance is all she's got."

"Mom…"

"Would you take these to her?" Cindy wiped her eyes and grabbed a basket of muffins and pastries from the counter. "I think she's been up all night and she should probably eat."

Still wondering what had happened the night before, Brandon gave up on finding anything out from his mother and decided try his hand at getting Brenda to open up to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

'_Dear Brenda,_

_I'm finally out of rehab. For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm alone. My Mom went back to Hawaii. She swears I don't need her around anymore. Your Mom and Val came by, too. They were really sweet, but it felt… off._

_The truth is, you're the only person I want to see. When I was drunk and high, I could almost pretend Val was enough, but now… now I'm done. I'm not going to see anyone else until I stop seeing your face every time I close my eyes. Or until I have you back._

_God, Bren, if I ever get you back, I swear to you, I will never, ever stop trying to make everything up to you._

_Your Mom made it clear that she wants me to go back to school, but I don't know. There's the money issue, for one thing. But more than that, I don't think I'm ready to be back in that world again. I need to focus on me for awhile, not on deadlines and papers and other people's ideas of what I should be doing or studying. Going back right now would feel like going backwards. Trying to fit myself into something that I'm supposed to be. I guess I'd rather just spend some time figuring out who I want to be._

_Does that make sense?_

_I wish you were going to actually read this letter. I wish we were on speaking terms, so that I could get your thoughts on all this. I miss you more than I ever thought I would. More than I ever have before, which is saying quite a bit._

_Because I know you'll never read this, I can be selfish. I can beg you to come home now. I love that you're strong and independent and happy over there (or so I hear from Donna and your family), because God knows, you weren't happy here. And I would be even more of a jerk than I am to begrudge you that happiness when I caused so much of your unhappiness. _

_I don't begrudge your happiness, Brenda, but I do envy it._

_And the selfish part of me (which is, admittedly, most of me), just hates that your happiness took you so far away from me. And I hate that I screwed everything up so badly that the distance between us isn't just literal._

_I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm trying. I'm trying to figure this all out. I'm trying to be better, and I miss you, every day._

_Oh, and I got a clipping of your latest review… your scenes from Hamlet, for one of your classes I guess. It sounds like you were amazing. Of course you were amazing. I wish I'd seen it._

_Love,  
Dylan.'_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Setting the letter down with a sigh, Brenda wiped away a few tears that dared to fall from her eyes. Somehow, the things Dylan wrote were hitting her harder than anything he'd ever said to her. A piece of him came alive on the page, a piece that was always dormant when he spoke. He was much more aware of himself, much more eloquent in writing. Reading his letters felt like looking into his eyes, or lying in his arms or slow dancing. At those times, she knew him and she knew herself and she knew that they would be okay.

But did Val have that same feeling, that she knew him? Did Kelly? Val and Kelly had each had monumentally messed up childhoods. They had each had emotional traumas and they'd each dealt with addictions in various loved ones. Maybe they understood him more deeply than Brenda did. Maybe it wasn't about what books he liked but whose parents were just as awful as his were.

_That's not what the letters say_, Brenda reminded herself. _The man loves you, you know that._

What she didn't know was why her exes all seemed to end up with Valerie in the end. Or why it was bothering her so much that Val was with Stuart. Brenda didn't even _like_ Stuart. They were beyond wrong for each other, and Brenda had never really missed him. He'd been charming and sophisticated and he'd swept her off her feet, but she hadn't ever fallen for him. If Val had, there wasn't really anything wrong with it, except that it established a pattern with Val.

A pattern which led back to Dylan and to Val and Dylan.

And to heartbreak.

But hey, on the plus side, Brenda wasn't thinking about how she was probably dying. Or she hadn't been until now.

A soft knock at the door shook her thoughts, fortunately. She'd been expecting her brother to check in ever since she'd heard his car. They hadn't been as close as they once were, but she knew he'd seen her light and want to make sure she was okay. He wouldn't be Brandon if he didn't.

"Come in."

"Hey," her brother stepped into the room, holding up a basket of what appeared to be baked goods. "From Mom."

"Why does everyone keep giving me food?" Brenda shook her head. Iris sent some new herbal remedy over every time Dylan came by, and in the days since he'd left for Mexico, Iris herself had come over a few times. Donna brought ice cream. Andrea made brownies. Steve's Mom had sent over a beautiful fruit basket that actually touched Brenda very deeply. "Does no one realize how hard it's going to be to be a fat actress?"

"You're hardly fat," Brandon shook his head as he moved across the room to sit next to her on the bed. Brenda quickly shuffled the letters out of sight.

"It was a joke," she explained. She realized, of course, that she'd reached the 'scarily underweight' category, but she never seemed to have any kind of appetite anymore. "It's just a lot of food."

Brandon nodded and they fell silent.

Brenda knew that there were conversations they both desperately wanted to have, but neither twin quite knew where to begin.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Cindy?"

Cindy Walsh wiped at her tears before turning to face her husband. She'd spent most of the last few weeks in tears and she knew Jim must be sick of it. _She_ was sick of it.

"Have you been up all night?" Jim looked around the kitchen in awe. Following his gaze, Cindy suddenly realized how ridiculous her army of baked goods truly was.

"Anything to keep busy," she shrugged. "The coffee should be ready in a few minutes."

"We're doing everything we can do for her," Jim spoke quietly, putting his arms around his wife. His words reminded her of Brandon's earlier attempts at consolation, and Cindy felt guilty for a moment about the way she'd snapped at him. This time wasn't like it had been with Shiela; then, she had been much, much closer to her sister and therefore to the loss than the rest of her family. Now, she knew, her husband and son were just as frightened as she was.

"It only gets worse from here," Cindy said, lost in memories of her sister's struggle with the same disease. "The chemo, the radiation, all of it… it only gets worse. I don't want it to get worse."

Jim didn't say anything; he simply held her and rocked her gently. She leaned into his shoulder and let a few more tears fall. They stayed that way for several long moments, not speaking, just leaning on one another's shoulders. When Sheila had been sick, Jim's work schedule hadn't really allowed him to be there to support Cindy. In fact, he'd been away on business when Sheila died. Now, with Brenda, he was obviously making up for that. He was really the person holding the family together right now, and Cindy didn't know what she would do without him.

"Brenda needs her mother," Jim finally whispered. "Whatever comes next, she needs her mother. And you need to be there for her, Cindy. You'll always regret it if you aren't."

"I know."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Did something happen last night, Brenda?" Brandon was starting to feel like he had déjà vu or something, but his mother and sister were both behaving very strangely this (very early) morning, and he knew there was no way to gradually build up to the conversation he and Brenda needed to have. He needed to know what was going on with Brenda.

"Something like what?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Mom's been baking all night. It looks like you've been up all night. Something must have happened."

"I'm not really sure," Brenda sighed, pulling a pillow onto her lap and toying with it. "The whole night was just weird."

"Want to talk about it?" Brandon asked when she didn't immediately explain.

"It really wasn't a big deal," she shrugged again. "We all had dinner together, and Mom barely talked, as usual. Then Stuart Carson showed up…"

"What?!"

"Yeah," Brenda's expression was dark, and Brandon suspected that Stuart's visit had not gone well. "Apparently he's dating Val, now."

"_What?!"_ Brandon couldn't even think of a time when Val could have been introduced to Stuart. There hadn't been any clues, as far as he could tell. He really didn't want to believe that Val, who'd practically been a sister to him, and to Brenda, could be this cruel to Brenda, now. To go after Stuart so soon after going after Dylan, especially now, given everything… it seemed to imply that Val had something serious against Brenda, and Brandon couldn't work out why.

A feud with one of her oldest friends was the last thing Brenda needed right now.

"Yeah. So anyway, I wasn't in the best mood and my head started to hurt," Brenda seemed to be glossing over the whole evening, but Brandon could tell that she was hurting, both physically and emotionally. "The night kind of went down hill from there."

"Are you… okay now?" Brandon hedged. He didn't want to bother her if she was really still in pain, but he did think it was high time they had a heart to heart. They hadn't really sat down one on one since the night she'd announced she was sick.

"My headache's gone, if that's what you're asking," Brenda answered, laying back on the bed as she did so. "I did get a few hours of sleep, and I took some pain killers, so my head's okay."

"Brenda are _you _okay?" he asked again. His sister forced a small smile and nodded, but it was clear that she wasn't sincere. "Because it's okay, if you're not. There's a lot going on with you right now, I know."

"I'm really okay, Brandon."

Brandon reached out and wrapped his sister in his arms, pulling her to him. If she wasn't ready to talk, she needed to know he'd be around when she was ready, and he couldn't really think of any way to tell her that, other than to just… be there. Slowly, he felt tears start to wet his shirt, and he knew he was doing the right thing.

"Oh Brenda," he whispered, rocking her softly. "It'll be okay. It will."

_It has to._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	14. Part Thirteen

A/N: I'm feeling a _little_ Val hate from the comments, so I wanted to start this section off trying to make her feelings clear. I never intended to have her intentionally going after Brenda's men… Also, I'm trying to bring some of the other characters further into the story, 'cause it _was_ an ensemble show, and I've been neglecting people. The focus is still the Walshes and Dylan, but I'm bringing some of the other characters in.

**Part Thirteen**

The seatbelt light went on and Val leaned back against her headrest, heaving a deep sigh. The plane was beginning its descent toward LAX, and Val wasn't exactly sure that was a good thing. When she'd called the Walsh house to give them her flight information, she'd received a decidedly frosty reception from Cindy, and then Brandon had taken the phone and yelled at her for hurting Brenda. All in all, she wasn't even sure she'd be welcome in the Walsh home at this point.

Beside her, Dylan was shifting in his seat uncomfortably, and Val suspected that he too was conflicted about the return to Los Angeles. He'd begged and pleaded and cajoled the FBI, but in the end, Erica had been shipped off to an aunt in Washington state. Even though they'd have contact and visits, it would be hard for Dylan to be apart from his sister again. On the other hand, Dylan and Brenda had seemed awfully close lately, and Val figured Dylan must be anxious to get home to her.

Brenda.

It all came back to Brenda. From what Brandon had yelled at her, the Walshes had found out about Stuart somehow. Val hadn't called him when she'd left for Mexico, assuming she'd only be gone for a few days, and he must have called or stopped by the house in that time.

_I should have told them sooner, _Val sighed. She wasn't exactly sure why she hadn't said anything, except that she wasn't sure how to tell Brenda and the family without it sounding like she was only interested because he had been with Brenda first.

Of course, that was exactly the impression that keeping it a secret must have left anyway.

But it wasn't true. She hadn't even known who he was when they'd met, and by the time she'd found out, she'd already been head-over-heels for him. Stuart didn't treat her like his latest piece of ass, the way Dylan had. He wasn't interested in her for who she pretended to be, like Steve had been. Stuart made Val believe that he believed she might actually be worth something, that he might actually care about her. And even knowing he'd been with Brenda first, Val couldn't let go of the way he made her feel.

Val hadn't felt "good enough" for anything in a very long time. The Walshes were always nice enough, but she felt like their charity case or their pet project or something. And their friends hadn't exactly welcomed her with open arms. With Brenda back in Beverly Hills, Val felt like she didn't belong in their little circle at all anymore.

Val felt like she didn't belong anywhere anymore. Not when her own mother had made it clear that she blamed Val for her father's suicide.

Not even Stuart could fix that, but when she was with him, her father's suicide wasn't the central element of her being.

That, ultimately, was why she'd wanted the relationship to stay secret. If the "real" world knew about Stuart, they would have to leave their island paradise once and for all. And given everything that was going on in the real world, Valerie wasn't sure they could survive if the real world got involved.

"Val?" Dylan interrupted her thoughts, and when she looked over at him, she saw an impatient look on her face. "You need to get up so that I can."

With a mental groan, Val grabbed her overhead bag and filed off of the plane.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Going somewhere?"

David looked guiltily over at Claire, who was still in bed. He'd intended to sneak back to the dorm before she woke up.

"I have early classes," he lied, buttoning his shirt. "I thought I should head back to campus."

"It's barely six," Claire said, rolling over to look at the clock briefly. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, holding the sheet tightly to her chest. "Classes don't start until eight."

"I know, but I left some books in my room…"

"David, what the Hell is going on?"

That was, ultimately, the question. What _was_ going on? Somewhere along the line, he'd become ambivalent about his relationship. Claire was beautiful and quirky and spirited, but for some reason, they weren't clicking. Lately, he'd been looking at what Kelly and Brandon had, and even at Brenda and Dylan, and he found his own relationship with Claire was lacking something, something that even Brenda and Dylan . And he had no idea what it was.

"I'm just going back to my room," David finally answered, shrugging. "I just have some stuff to take care of."

"Well, were you going to say goodbye?" Claire gripped the sheets tighter to her chest. "Or were you just going to disappear?"

"Of course I was going to say goodbye," David leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "I'll see you later."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You ready to go, sis?" Brandon walked into the garage apartment and froze. "Uh… Bren?"

His sister was standing in the middle of the room, staring at her full length mirror, and she was totally naked. Brandon immediately turned and faced the door, which she really should have locked.

"Brandon! Don't you knock?!" Brenda shrieked. "God!"

He heard rustling behind him, but didn't turn around. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally see more than he already had. Actually, all he really wanted at the moment was brain bleach, so he could forget what he had seen. They might have taken baths together until they were five, but now, it wasn't cute anymore.

"Okay, I'm dressed," Brenda finally said a few minutes later. "We can go."

"Not to pry," Brandon said as he turned around, "but what were you doing?"

"Nothing," Brenda blushed, shaking her head. She grabbed her purse off the counter and impatiently tapped her fingers against her hips. Brandon knew she wasn't anxious to go to her chemotherapy appointment (the first), but she would clearly rather be having toxic chemicals pumped into her bloodstream than talk to him, which only made him more curious to know what she was up to. "Can we go?"

"Brenda, come on," Brandon touched her arm as she tried to push past him. "What's going on?"

"It's stupid," Brenda sighed, leaning back against the door frame. Her face was flushed and she deliberately avoided his eyes. Not for the first time, Brandon was struck by how small his sister had looked for the last few months. She had always been short, but her confidence, her presence had made her seem almost larger than life. In the last few years, her confidence had waned, she'd isolated herself, her presence had almost withered away to nothing, as her mediocre grades from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts attested.

Brenda had completely changed, and once again, Brandon felt a wave of nauseous guilt that he had never seen just how troubled, how sickly she had become.

"I'm sure it's not stupid," Brandon slipped an arm around her shoulders, hoping to reassure her. "Tell me what's going on."

"I was just… memorizing myself," Brenda sighed, toying with her hands, which were clasped before her. "I… after the surgery… and now chemo… I'm all different and I just wanted to remember."

"That's not stupid," Brandon whispered, pulling his sister into a full hug. As his fingers brushed her hair, he realized with a start that she would start to lose it soon. The weight of his sister's illness finally hit him, and Brandon clutched her tighter. "That's not stupid at all."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Shhh," Andrea whispered; rocking her daughter gently. Hannah had been crying for days on end. She was barely sleeping a few hours at a time, and that left Andrea barely sleeping at all. It couldn't continue. "Hannah, honey, shhhh."

Hannah only screamed louder.

"Alright, that's it," Andrea sighed. "You and I are going to the doctor, Missy."

Even a pre-med college student like Andrea could that something was very wrong with Hannah. She'd call Jesse from the hospital; for now, all Andrea could think of was getting her little girl medical attention.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Brenda felt a little like a desperate schoolgirl, as she frantically scanned the hospital waiting room and then slumped back in her chair with a sigh of defeat. It wasn't exactly an unusual situation for her; she'd never had cancer before, or been in the waiting room before her first chemotherapy session before, but the rest seemed to be a universal theme of her life since moving to California.

Dylan had let her down again.

He'd promised to be at her first appointment, and even though she more than understood his reasons, because after all, she'd encouraged him to go to Mexico, to recover his money and his sister, she was still hurt that he hadn't made it back on time. Mostly because the sinking feeling in her stomach told her she'd let herself come to depend on him again, and he was already breaking promises.

How was she ever supposed to trust him again?

"Bren," Brandon nudged her with his shoulder, shaking Brenda out of her thoughts, and gestured towards the waiting room doors. "Look up."

Brenda looked out into the hallway, and somehow, she didn't quite recognize the man nearly running down the corridor, nearly colliding with an orderly and a few patients as he ran. Until he stopped in front of her, out of breath and panting, but _there_, Brenda didn't recognize the man.

"You made it," she finally realized, her eyes welling up. "I thought you were in Mexico a few more days."

"I promised I'd be here," Dylan answered, sitting in the seat Brandon had suddenly vacated beside her. He grasped one of her hands with both of his and leaned forward so that their foreheads touched. "My plane got in twenty minutes ago and I came right here. I was afraid I'd miss it."

It all suddenly reminded Brenda of the first time she'd found a lump on her breast, when Dylan had come rushing in with a bouquet of flowers and an apology for being late, and it turned out he'd stopped at every hospital in the city to try to find her. She'd given him an out, then, and he hadn't taken it. And she'd given him a hundred outs since she'd come home, this time, and he hadn't taken a single one of those.

She'd been okay, the last time, a little scarred and a little scared, but she'd been okay. And _they'd_ been okay. Maybe it would all work out this time around, too.

"Thank you," Brenda whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek. She wanted to say more, to tell him she loved him, that she forgave him, that they could try again, but she wasn't quite brave enough. She wasn't quite ready to speak the words, but she knew that she felt them. Gently, she let her lips touch his, briefly, not quite a kiss, but a start.

"Brenda Walsh?"

Hearing the nurse call her name, Brenda took a deep breath and stood, her family and her (dare-she-think-it?) boyfriend standing with her, rallying around her. Squeezing Dylan's hand and reaching for Brandon's, Brenda took a small step. It was time to start her chemotherapy treatment.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N2: Okay, there it was. That chapter was kind of difficult to write for some reason, and I hope it reads okay. It's kind of filler, but I hope it doesn't come across that way! I think the next chapter will have another little time jump, just to jog my writer's block, possibly more than a few weeks, because I don't really have B plots to move along here.


	15. Part Fourteen

A/N: So I promised NikkylovesBD that Faith Love and Family was the next story to get an update, but this one snuck up on me, so it goes first. There is a time jump here, of about a month.

**Part Fourteen**

The next month passed in a blur of hospital visits and bouts of nausea, with chemo treatments every other week. Slowly, life seemed to settle back into a semblance of normal, even for Brenda, although it was a completely new definition of normal. She started helping her Dad at his office a few days a week, when she was feeling well enough, just to keep from going crazy with boredom. She was on speaking terms (barely) with Valerie again, at least enough to make living in the same house bearable. Although, the truth was, Brenda spent more time in her garage apartment than in the main house.

Things with Dylan were as complicated as ever, although they were spending more time together than ever before. He brought her lunch every day and they usually had dinner together as well. When it had come time to shave her head, he'd taken her to the same stylist who'd once dyed her hair back from the hideous blond color, back before they were even dating. Iris had helped her pick out a collection of head scarves, and Jackie Taylor got her a meeting with the best wig maker in the modeling world.

And yet, in spite of all he was doing for her, in spite of all the time they were spending together, things remained on a just-barely-more-than-platonic level. They held hands. He kissed her cheek, her forehead, and every once in awhile, there was a gentle kiss on the lips, but never anything that lasted more than the briefest of seconds. She often dozed off on his shoulder or resting in his arms, but he never spent the night, and there was never anything sexual to it. Not that she had any energy for anything sexual, but it would be nice to think that he was _interested_ in there being something sexual.

She knew he loved her, and she knew that she loved him. She just didn't know if they were a couple, or if he wanted them to be a couple. She didn't even know if _she_ wanted them to be a couple.

It was all driving her a little batty, especially given that she had more than enough time to waste just thinking about it.

A knock on the door startled Brenda out of her thoughts, and just in time. The door creaked open and Brenda's face broke into a smile as Andrea pushed her way into the room.

"Hi," her old friend greeted softly, holding up a bouquet of flowers. "I'm sorry I've been keeping my distance lately, but Hannah's had an awful fever…"

"And I have no immune system," Brenda finished for her. "I get it. Is Hannah okay now?"

"She's over the worst of it," Andrea sat in the armchair next to the bed where Brenda was resting. "And no worries, my doctor cleared me to visit you. It probably wasn't contagious, but we wanted to be safe."

"Hmm," Brenda moved to sit up, even though a wave of nausea hit from the attempt alone. "Can I get you something? Have you eaten yet?"

"Lay back down," Andrea ordered. "I'm here to help you, not to make you wait on me. Besides, Nat sent me some soup and your Mom just gave me a homemade loaf of bread, so you don't need to lift a finger."

"Thank God," Brenda murmured as Andrea got up and went over to the kitchenette to get lunch ready. "Would you mind putting some water on? Iris sent over this great herbal tea that really helps with the nausea."

"I'm here to serve," Andrea said with a smile; she filled the kettle, looking out the window as she put it on the stove. "Oh my God, is that Stuart Carson… and _Valerie?_"

"Ugh," Brenda rolled her eyes and fell back against the pillows. "Don't remind me."

"I'm always the last to know around here."

"Hey, you were the first to know about Brandon and Kelly," Brenda reminded her. "And the second to know about Dylan and me this summer."

"That's true," the kettle began to whistle and Andrea poured the tea into two mugs. In one, she used a bag of Iris's herbal remedy, and in her own mug, she opted for Earl Grey. Brenda watched as Andrea sliced the bread and ladled soup into two bowls. Caretaking seemed to come so easily to Andrea. It was easy to imagine her as a doctor because Andrea had always been the member of their group who seemed to be caring for the rest of them.

Andrea carried a tray over to the bed for Brenda, then gathered her own lunch and returned to the armchair.

"It's funny, I can still remember a time when the idea of Brandon and Kelly bothered me so much it was almost a physical pain," Andrea reminisced.

"I remember," Brenda smiled. "I always hoped you and Brandon would end up together some day."

"That's just because you didn't want Brandon with Kelly either," Andrea teased with a smile. It was true, although Brenda couldn't remember why. It may have been fear that if Kelly was dating Brandon, she wouldn't have been Brenda's friend anymore. Whatever it was, it seemed stupid now.

"I guess things worked out the way they were supposed to," Brenda said tentatively. She and Andrea weren't as close as they'd once been, and Brenda wasn't entirely sure that Andrea was over Brandon enough to be happy for him and Kelly.

"Yeah," Andrea's face had fallen a little and her words came out almost as a whisper. "I guess they did."

"Andrea?"

"It's nothing," Andrea blinked a few times, focusing on her soup. "I'm fine."

"Tell me."

"It's stupid," Andrea shooke her head. "You don't need to hear about my stupid problems."

"Your problems aren't stupid," Brenda touched Andrea's hand lightly. "Andrea, tell me."

"I think my marriage is falling apart."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"_David, what the Hell is your problem?"_

"There they go again," Kelly groaned, pouring herself another cup of coffee. "They've been fighting nonstop for a month."

"Except at night," Donna muttered under her breath. It was silly, that this would bother her, but the walls of the apartment weren't very thick, and David _was_ her first boyfriend. And Donna had been alone since she and Ray had split up.

"Is that bitterness I detect?" Brandon teased. Donna groaned, banging her head against the table. A giggle told Donna that her roommate and Brandon were being an obnoxiously cute couple again.

It wasn't fun to be constantly surrounded by couples, even imperfect couples like David and Claire, when she was so pitifully single. It had gotten to the point where Steve was the only other person she knew who was single, and he seemed happy about it.

"Okay, Donna, spill," Kelly leaned forward across the counter. "I know you're not still pining over David, so what's going on?"

"I'm just sick of being single," Donna admitted with a sigh. "Even _Valerie_ has someone right now and I'm alone and it sucks."

"Valerie has her supposed best friend's ex-fiance and all kinds of crazy," Kelly sniped, sitting on the stool next to Donna and throwing an arm around her friend's shoulder. "You're better than that."

"And yet, she has someone, and I'm all by myself," Donna grumbled to herself. It was easy for Kelly to say Donna didn't need a boyfriend. Kelly hadn't been single in years, and even when she was, she'd never had to go a weekend without a date. Nor, for that matter, had Brandon. Or Steve. Or Dylan. Even Brenda had never been short of options, even when she was pining over Dylan.

None of them had ever been lonely as long as Donna had been before she started dating David.

"Okay Donna, I know you don't believe I could possibly understand being single," Kelly rolled her eyes to show how ridiculous she thought that was. "But look at Andrea."

"Huh?"

"Andrea spent most of high school gazing longingly at this lughead," Kelly gestured to her boyfriend, who faked a pained expression. "And when she did date it was never anything serious."

"So?"

"So, who honestly thought she'd be the first of us to settle down?" Kelly asked. "She went months and months without a boyfriend, and now she and Jesse are an actual family."

"And I didn't have any serious relationships between Emily and Kelly," Brandon added; Donna resisted the urge to list the girls he'd dated between Emily and Kelly, or at least the ones she remembered – Nikki, Lucinda Nicholson, Claire, for example. "Now look at me."

Donna didn't miss the scowl on Kelly's face at the mention of Brandon's ex-girlfriend. It seemed like Kelly might not be completely over whatever had happened that fall, although Donna didn't know the details.

"You just need to be patient," Kelly concluded, rubbing Donna's arm gently. Just then, David stormed through the living room and out the door.

"Bye _honey_!" Claire yelled sarcastically from the other room.

"Besides, being single _has_ to be better than that," Brandon quipped. "Doesn't it?"

Donna forced a smile.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dylan shook his head at the sight of his mother puttering around the kitchen, throwing all kinds of food and herbal remedies into what he could only assume was a care package for Brenda. Lately, his mother was more Cindy Walsh than Cindy Walsh was.

"Oh Dylan, good," Iris turned to face him, holding up a box of tea bags. "Did Brenda mention whether she liked these ones or the others better? I want to send a box over when you go for lunch…"

"Actually, that was her on the phone," Dylan grabbed an apple out of the care package and bit into it. "She and Andrea are having a girls' only lunch, so I won't see her until tonight."

"Oh," Iris's face fell as she leaned back against the counter. "Well, then, I'll send a box of each over when you go for dinner."

"Okay."

"Can I make you something?" Iris opened the cupboards and rooted through them. "We have soup or pasta…"

"I'm fine."

"Okay," Iris said slowly, making it clear she didn't believe him. She returned to rummaging through the cupboards. Dylan slid into a chair at the kitchen table and grabbed a newspaper that was at least a week old, rifling through the pages. There wasn't anything he was actually interested in reading, but it was too cold for surfing, and he needed something to do.

After a few minutes, Iris sat beside him at the tale, setting a cup of black of coffee in front of him.

"We need to talk," she announced. "I've been thinking, and I know that I've never been much of a mother to you…"

"You're leaving," Dylan fought to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He should have known she'd be going back to Hawaii soon; she'd come for Christmas, and now it was only a few days away from Valentine's Day.

"No, actually, I'm staying," Iris corrected. "Dylan, this past year has been incredibly difficult for you, and quite frankly, I haven't been supportive enough. I shouldn't have waited so long to come home."

"But your tree house on the beach…"

"Will still be there in a few months," Iris reached out and took his hand, squeezing it lightly. "Or years, if that's what you need."

She reached out with her free hand to touch his cheek, and Dylan blinked back a few tears. It had been a long time since he'd felt that he could truly rely on another human being. It had been even longer since he'd felt like he had a real parent looking after him.

"My boy," Iris whispered, her palm cupping his cheek. "I don't know what fate's got against you. It just doesn't seem fair."

She shook her head, moving her hand to wipe at her own tears.

"Now, we will need to find a new place," she took the paper out of his hands and flipped to the real estate section. "I can't sleep on your couch forever. And your sister will probably want a room for her visits. I was also thinking a place in walking distance from the Walshes might be nice…"

Dylan stood up as she rattled off her list of requirements for the new house.

"Thanks Mom," he whispered, crouching to hug her.

"What are mothers for?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

Valerie leaned back against the lounge chair, pulling her knees to her chest. Stuart, at the other end of the seat, leaned forward, kissing her, despite her every signal to stay away. It felt weird, to be in the Walshes' back yard, kissing the man who'd almost been their son-in-law, even though they were all at the hospital with Brenda. It felt weird to have been dating Brenda's ex-fiancé for a month. It felt weird to have been dating anyone for a month.

"Everything okay?" Stuart asked, feeling her tense up.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied. Weird as it felt to be dating Brenda's ex (actually dating, not just sleeping with), it would feel weirder to talk about her with him.

"I can tell that you're not fine," Stuart pressed. "Tell me what's bothering you."

Val turned her head away, gazing out over the lawn. It was funny how similar this yard was to the one they'd left behind in Minneapolis. There, of course, there would be snow coating everything, and there would be a play set in the corner farthest from the driveway, but the basketball hoop in the driveway, the rose buses along the edge of the property, the grill and picnic table, even the lawn chair she was currently sitting on, they were all laid out in the same way that the Walsh yard at the old house had been laid out. Somehow, Val hadn't noticed that in the five months she'd been living there.

"Val," Stuart reached a hand out to touch her face. "Please tell me what's wrong."

"When we were kids, they used to call us triplets," Val said quietly, her gaze stuck on the spot where the play set would have been at the old house. "Me, Brenda and Brandon, back in Minneapolis. We used to tell people I was their triplet. My home life kind of sucked, and I slept over at the Walshes' sometimes six nights a week. We rode to school together every morning, and our parents were best friends, and we were best friends. There literally wasn't a single day that we didn't see each other for years. And now, I can hardly have a civil conversation with either of them."

"Because of me?"

Now, Val met his eyes, and she felt a stab of guilt and fear. To really answer that, she would have to be more open with Stuart than she'd been so far. More open than she was fully prepared to be.

Because what if he couldn't handle it?

"No," she finally answered. "There was… other stuff. Before you."

Stuart was quiet for a minute, clearly hoping she'd elaborate on her own. Valerie kept quiet. Her past was a mess and a half, and she doubted Stuart, with his millions of dollars and doting parents could truly understand.

"Stuff you don't want to talk about," Stuart finally concluded. "Val, what are we doing?"

"What?"

"You know, this is exactly how it went with Brenda," he said, agitated. He moved from sharing her lounge chair to pacing to sitting in the chair next to hers. "We never talked about anything important and then one day we realized we didn't even know each other."

"What are you asking me?"

"I don't know,' Stuart shrugged, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. "I guess I'm asking you to let me get to know you."

"Stuart…"

"Because this just isn't worth it to me if you won't let me in."

And there it was. The sentence she'd come up against every time she'd tried to have a real relationship. Which, admittedly, had only been a few times. And every time she'd let the guy walk away, because it was easier than seeing the disgust register on their faces when they found out the truth, at least, she assumed.

It was why Dylan had appealed to her; he was the only person she knew who might be as screwed up as she was, and he certainly didn't care _why_ she was screwed up.

"There are things about me that…" Val didn't get a chance to finish, as the sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupted them, and she turned like a deer in headlights. She hadn't expected the Walshes to be back for a few hours. Jim was at work, Brandon was at Kelly's, and Cindy was supposed to be running errands and getting together with Jackie Taylor, except that Cindy and Jackie were both climbing out of Cindy's car, along Felice Martin, all with shopping bags in hands.

_This last half hour has gone really well for me,_ Val thought with a mental grimace.

"Stuart, I think you should go now," Cindy said quietly as she and her friends walked past Val into the house. Val dropped her head into her hands.

"Val," Stuart murmured after they were gone. Val shook her head and stood up.

"She's right," she said. "You shouldn't be here right now."

"But Val…" Stuart stood up, arms crossed. "I don't think we were done talking here."

"We weren't," Val agreed, reaching out to touch his arm. "We'll finish this, I promise."

_I just really need to talk to Brenda, first._

~*~*~*~*~*~


	16. Part Fifteen

A/N: To those who were hoping for the Brenda/Val conversation in this chapter, unfortunately, you will be a little disappointed. I promise it's in the next chapter, but this one felt really disjointed and awkward trying to cram everything in and set up what I wanted to set up. So instead, I pushed that to Part Sixteen. On the plus side, I am putting both chapters up at once :D

**Part Fifteen**

"Your marriage is falling apart?" Brenda echoed, and Andrea could hear the confusion in her voice, which didn't particularly surprise her. Andrea had been careful to maintain the image of a perfectly happy young married mother in front of her friends, mostly because she didn't want them to see how terrified she was that marrying Jesse had been a big mistake.

Andrea nodded, not wanting to say the words again. She wasn't sure why she'd felt the urge to confide in Brenda suddenly, but something told her Brenda would understand. After all, Brenda had almost made the same mistake not long before Andrea had.

"Explain," Brenda demanded, sitting up straight and putting Andrea on the spot.

"I don't know if I can without sounding like a horrible person," Andrea started nervously. _Especially given your history with Dylan_, she added mentally. "It's just that Jesse works so hard. I hardly see him anymore, and now he's looking for clerkships, and he wants me to want what he wants. There's just so much pressure…"

"Andrea, what's really happening?"

"There's someone else," Andrea whispered. "Peter. I met him at the laundry mat and it was just a flirtation. I was only ever going to see him that once. But he's a medical student, and he's interning at the hospital, and he was there when I brought Hannah in, and now I'm working there…"

"Has anything happened?" Brenda asked. Andrea strained to hear the disgust in Brenda's voice, but there was none. All Andrea sensed was concern and curiosity. "I mean, more than flirting?"

"We kissed," Andrea admitted in a squeaky voice she didn't recognize. "Twice."

"Oh Andrea," there it was. Not quite disgust, but something closer to disappointment. But then she felt a hand rubbing her arm and when she looked up, she only saw worry in Brenda's face. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

"Are you ready to leave Jesse for him?"

"I don't know."

"Well, can I offer you some advice?" Brenda pulled her hand back moved it to her lap, where it began toying with the bed sheets. Andrea nodded, curious. "Andrea, it has taken years for me to even get close to forgiving Dylan…"

"That was different," Andrea interrupted immediately, wanting to justify herself. "Kelly was your best friend."

"Yeah, but Andrea, you and Jesse are _married_," Brenda reminded her, as if Andrea needed reminding. "And if you seriously think you made a mistake, then cheating on him isn't the way to address that. And if you really love this Peter guy and you want to be with him, then you need to start it honestly. If you love Peter and you don't love Jesse, it isn't fair to string them both along. If you stay with Jesse, you can't be with Peter, and if you want to be with Peter, then you need to leave Jesse."

"I don't think marrying Jesse was a mistake," Andrea whispered; she'd blanched when Brenda suggested it. Even though she'd thought it herself, hearing Brenda say the words aloud made Andrea realize that she didn't really believe it. Yes, they had been young, and yes, they were having problems, but she and Jesse and Hannah were a family.

"Then you owe it to him to figure out what's really wrong and try to fix it," Brenda took Andrea's hand again, and added in a voice barely above a whisper "because Andrea, if you go any farther with Peter, it will never be the same. Even if Jesse forgives you, it will never be the same."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"David," Donna greeted, sliding into a seat at the counter of the Peach Pitt, next to her ex-boyfriend. David looked over and forced a smile, but Donna knew he wasn't in the best of moods. After weeks of fighting, he and Claire had finally split up earlier in that week, with Valentine's Day staring them in the face. It had to sting.

"Hey," David muttered, sounding glum.

"You going to this dance thing at the After Dark?" Donna made a face of mock disgust.

"I don't know."

"'Cause I was thinking we could go together, if you want," she suggested quickly. "As friends, you know? A club of the recently dumped?"

"You're too good for Ray Pruit anyway," David said quietly. He took a sip of his coffee, avoiding her eyes.

"And you're too good for Claire," Donna answered. "And I have to go to this thing for my sorority, so I'm asking you to come with me and make it bearable."

David pretended to think about it for a minute before he smiled a genuine smile.

"I guess I could do that."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Steve gazed at the corkboard, brow furrowed, wondering for the thousandth time why he'd opted to take French for his language requirement. He'd had a vague memory of a French nanny when he was five or six years old, and he'd thought he remembered more of the language than "bonjour" and "merci."

Turned out, he hadn't.

"Is that Steve Sanders I see?" Claire leaned against the wall next to him, a smirk on her face. "Tell me _you_ aren't looking for a job."

"Hey, I could hold a job if I wanted to," Steve snapped, though, thinking back on his brief tenure at the Peach Pit in high school, he realized that might not be true. He just didn't like that Claire had clearly made assumptions about him. "But no, I'm not looking for a job."

"A new place then?" Claire asked, the teasing note out of her voice. "Frat house not doing it for you anymore?"

"I love the KEG house," Steve corrected. "I'm looking for a tutor."

"A tutor? You?"

"I seem to be failing French," he confessed. "And I'd ask Brenda for help, but…"

"Well, then today is your lucky day," Claire said, throwing an arm around his shoulders as she popped up away from the wall. "I happen to parlez Fracais with the best of them. Let me tutor you," Claire scanned his flyer, then added "and I'll settle for half of what you're offering those other guys."

Steve pondered for a moment, then announced "deal."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Was that Stuart's car I saw pealing out of here?" Brandon asked after he parked his own car in the driveway and made his way across the backyard to where Val sat, staring gloomily off into the distance.

"Save it Brandon," Val snapped bitterly, "I already got the he-shouldn't-be-here lecture from your Mom, okay? I get it."

Brandon held his hands up in surrender and shook his head. "Woah, I didn't mean anything by it, I promise."

"Sorry," his old friend sighed. "I guess I'm just a little riled up."

_Understatement_, Brandon thought, but he let the subject drop. He'd known Val since they were children, but they'd never been close. He and Val played basketball together, and she'd been good friends with Cheryl, back in Minnesota, and she'd dated a few of his friends, and of course she and Brenda had been practically glued at the hip for as long as he could remember – until recently at least – but even though they'd always been friends, and run in the same circles, he and Val had never confided in one another.

Brandon never got the feeling Val had confided in many people at all, except his sister.

"Just one question and I'll never mention it again," he asked after a few seconds of awkward silence. "Is this real, or is it a scheme, like Dylan?"

"I _swear_ I didn't know who he was when we met," Val met his eyes, and Brandon saw real emotion in their depths. "If it wasn't real, I would have walked away when I figured out who he was. I… I'm not trying to hurt her now. I've just never felt like this before."

Hearing her answer, Brandon decided he needed to help his sister and her former best friend patch things up, before their feud went any farther.

After all, if there were any two people out there who could use their friends right now, those two people were Brenda Walsh and Valerie Malone.


	17. Part Sixteen

**Part Sixteen**

Brenda rolled onto her side, still in the bed, after Andrea left, thinking about her conversation with her friend. Andrea was the last person in the world she'd expect to be cheating on her significant other – well, second to last, since Brenda really couldn't picture Donna cheating either. But then, Brenda had suspected for a while that things weren't great between Andrea and Jesse. The fact that Jesse would even consider taking a clerkship in a place where Andrea wouldn't be able to study medicine, for example, suggested to Brenda that they weren't communicating very well.

A knock on the door shook the thoughts of her friend's marriage out of her head, and Brenda called for her visitor to come in.

"Val's sitting outside looking pretty miserable," her brother's voice filled the small garage apartment. "I guess Mom said something to her about Stuart."

Brenda just let out an audible sigh of frustration in response.

"You have a lot to be angry at her over, Bren," Brandon said quietly, in a tone that told her right away that he was about to disapprove of something, "but I don't think Stuart is one of them."

"You don't think it's the least bit suspicious that she's gone after two of my exes in the last five months?" Brenda demanded, rolling over again to face him. "Let alone that they're the only two guys I've ever really been serious about?"

"I don't think she went after Stuart," Brandon sat down next to her on the bed, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "Brenda, what happened to us?"

"Well," Brenda pretended to think about it. "Val moved to Buffalo and became a lying, scheming bitch, and you and I moved to Beverly Hills and got cancer. I don't know what your deal is."

"Ha ha," Brandon rolled his eyes, but he dropped the subject. "I haven't seen Dylan around today."

"He's spending some time with his mom, and I think he was going to call Erica and check in," Brenda explained, a soft smile spreading across her face before she even realized it. It was sweet how much of a family man her boyfriend had become. With Iris in town seemingly indefinitely, and Erica in foster care just a few hours away, Dylan had been putting a lot of effort into maintaining his relationships with his mother and sister, and it seemed to be paying off. He'd even convinced his foster family to agree to give him visitation rights with Erica.

And had she mentally referred to him as her boyfriend just then?

"I had lunch with Andrea," Brenda forced the thought out of her head. "I think she's pretty unhappy, Brandon, have you spent any time with her lately? You two used to be so close."

Her brother's brow furrowed, and Brenda imagined him trying to think back to the last time he'd seen her.

"I haven't talked to her in a couple weeks," he answered, and Brenda smiled inwardly at how well she knew her brother. "What's going on?"

"It's not my place to say," Brenda sighed. She didn't want to break her confidence, but she also thought Andrea could use her best friend right now, and that had always been Brandon. "I just think she needs you."

The door opened without the forewarning of a knock, cutting their conversation short, and Brenda rolled her eyes when Val came into the room. They'd been going out of their ways to avoid each other ever since Val got back from her mysterious vacation. Brenda knew Val had made a few attempts to smooth things over, but Brenda had brushed the attempts off, and they'd settled into a pattern of icy civility.

Brenda didn't actually want to have the conversation that Val seemed to be after.

"Can I talk to you?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I'll get out of your hair," Brandon announced, reaching to squeeze his sister's arm as he rose from the bed. "Be nice."

Val was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to hear that last whispered part, but she smiled gratefully at Brandon as he walked out anyway.

"I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him."

"Brandon?" Brenda raised her eyebrows. "'Cause he has a girlfriend. Not that that would stop you, but I'm pretty sure it would stop him."

"Brenda, you weren't dating Dylan this fall!" Val snapped, fed up. "And you weren't dating Stuart last month either!"

"Whatever," Brenda muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Like it would have stopped you if I was."

"It would have," Valerie choked out, somewhat stunned that Brenda would think so poorly of her. She'd known Brenda was angry, but she'd thought her oldest friend would know her better than that. "Brenda, I was stupid this fall. I went after Dylan and it was stupid, but a part of me really thought I was protecting you, and the rest of me was really angry at you."

"Angry?" Brenda sputtered. "_You_ were _angry_ at _me?_"

"Yes!" Val threw up her hands. "It took two people to kill this friendship Brenda!"

"And what exactly have I done to you?" the steel in Brenda's voice belied her frail appearance, but her words were followed by a spout of coughing that made Val think twice about going through with this confrontation. She grabbed a bottle of water on the night table and handed it to Brenda.

"You didn't come to my Dad's funeral," Val whispered. "You decided to stay in London two days after your parents decided to let me live with them…"

"That had nothing to do with you," Brenda interrupted. "I had a free ride at RADA. I would have taken that no matter what was happening at home. And I'm sorry about your Dad's funeral, but I was on another continent."

"You didn't even call!"

"What was I supposed to say?" Brenda's voice softened, as did her face. "Val, what on Earth was I supposed to say? I _hated_ your father. I hated what he did to you, how scared he made you. I hated that he pulled the wool over your Mom's eyes, and my parents' eyes. What could I possibly say that wouldn't hurt you more than you were already hurting?"

"That's _why_ I needed you there, Brenda," Val sat down in the armchair next to the bed. "You knew what he did to me. You believed me. No one else did. That funeral was torture for me. Hearing what a wonderful father he was…"

"I'm sorry," Brenda whispered, as tears spilled messily from Val's eyes. "Val I…"

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and for the first time in months, Val felt like there might be hope for their friendship.

"So you went after Dylan because you were mad at me?"

"No, I swear, I…" She took a deep breath, unsure how to explain herself. "At least, that's not what I told myself it was about."

"Then what was it?" Brenda sounded fragile and scared. "Why _him_? After everything I told you, about him and Kelly, and everything, why would you do that to me?"

Val hated how small Brenda looked, still lying on the bed. She'd barely moved the whole time they'd been talking to each other, and Val suddenly realized that she'd been standing there, towering over her friend for the whole confrontation. She slid exhaustedly into the chair next to Brenda's bed and took in the other girl's appearance.

Brenda was even thinner than she'd been when Val first saw her after getting back from her island vacation. She was paler, too, and a lot balder. The thick dark hair that had been Brenda's proudest feature as long as Val could remember had been replaced by a scarf, crumpled, barely hiding her baldness. Once again, Val was struck by the full force of Brenda's illness, which treatment had only seemed to make worse.

"I thought he was a womanizing addict," Val whispered, knowing it would sound stupid. It had sounded stupid in her head for months now, but it was all she had. "I thought you were better off without him, and I thought that eventually you would realize that. And in the meantime, I was mad at you anyway."

Val fell silent, already having admitted more than she was comfortable with. Brenda took a deep breath, not answering. Her face was almost unreadable, even for Val, even having known her for so long, but she at least appeared to be listening. That had to be a step in the right direction, didn't it?

"Brenda, I know what everyone around here thinks of me," Val spoke again, biting the bullet. "Kelly, Donna, David, especially Steve, and even you and Brandon now. I know what everyone thinks."

"Val, we…"

"No, Bren, it's okay," she held up a hand to stop Brenda from denying the truth. "It's… I mean, it's not okay, because other than you and Steve, no one has any reason to think it. But I understand it. I screwed up, going after Dylan, playing Steve. And my only excuse is that things have been bad for me for a really long time, and you shut me out years ago."

"I know," Brenda answered, surprising her. Their eyes met, and Val saw that Brenda's were filled with tears that were on the verge of falling. "How did we get here?"

Val shrugged, but she got up, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, and reaching out to take Brenda's hand and squeeze it. Brenda was the only person she'd ever truly counted on, the only person who'd ever truly counted on her. When that friendship had faded out of her life, Val had been lost, and when her father had killed himself and her mother had blamed her, everything had only gotten worse.

"I've missed you," a tear spilled from Brenda's eye and she reached with her free hand to wipe it away. Val gave her a weak smile, and Brenda met it with her own watery version. "So… you're in love with Stuart, huh?"

"I think so," Val admitted with a slow nod. "I… I feel different when I'm with him. I actually feel like I can talk to him about things that matter."

"But?"

"But…" Val took a deep breath. "He had this squeaky clean life and this squeaky clean childhood in Beverly Hills, and I just don't think he'd ever really understand…"

"He was Dylan's drug dealer," Brenda cut in, sighing as she said it. "Not this fall, the time before that. Stuart and I never talked about it, but Dylan told me. And anyone who sold heroin and liquor to a fifteen year old didn't have a squeaky clean childhood. Anyone who was in Narcotics Anonymous by 22 didn't have a squeaky clean childhood."

"You're telling me he's not who I think he is," Val surmised, her heart sinking. She'd known all along that he couldn't be as good as he seemed. She should have left it at a few weeks in paradise and never tried to continue it when they got back to LA.

"I'm telling you he's not who _I_ thought he was," Brenda corrected. She grimaced a little before adding "I'm telling you to stop assuming he won't like the real you and give him a fighting chance."

"Does this mean you forgive me?"

"I guess it does."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~


End file.
